Arthur Pendragon: Lost and Found
by Just Celia
Summary: Merlin closed his eyes, listening to the jeers of the other boys urging Arthur on: "Push him! Push him!". The lake shone brightly behind Merlin, who could only wait for the blow which would force him backwards into its cold depths. AU fic. Details inside
1. Prologue: Through the Ages

_Well, hello everyone, this is the first chapter of Arthur Pendragon: Lost and Found, and it is also my first AU fic :)_

**Some background stuff: **_Basically, it's set in an old fashioned boarding school in England, called Camelot boarding school for boys. England is very much like Camelot in the series: pretty medieval, and magic is not well liked by the king, Ethan Pangdrone, or many of his subjects.  
><em>_Uther is the headmaster of Camelot school and his wife, Igraine, is still alive. _

_Please keep in mind that this is kind of a tester chapter: a prologue and I'm not sure if I should continue, so feedback would be awesome *hint-hint*_

_Thank you :D_

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><p><strong>Prologue: Through the Ages<strong>

**Arthur turned two **and his father, Uther, was turned out of his house, his face red from a recent argument with his brother. His breath came in gasps and his eyes were filled with tears. He took the hands of his pregnant wife and his son, and then they left to start a new life, never looking back. Arthur would not remember this day.

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><p><strong>Arthur was eleven years old<strong> and his mother was kissing him goodbye. She was crying, and his father had a hand curled around her shoulder. The hand was cold and hard.

"He could just carry on going to school here, Uther," Arthur's mother tried one last time.

"Igraine," he said, sternly, "how can I claim to run a good school if my own son doesn't go there?"

"But... but a _boarding school, _Uther! He's just a boy, the older children will bully him!"

"No they won't, mother," Arthur piped up, trying to console his parent. She gave him a thin, watery smile, which failed to conceal her doubt. Suddenly, into the room, burst a little girl, who was beautiful even at such a young age.

"Bye Arty," she squealed, battling her big brother with a hug, which he returned, tightly.

"Bye Morgana," he whispered.

Arthur was then steered from the room. He and Uther got into a cart waiting for them outside, and drove off, to Camelot boarding school for boys.

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><p><strong>It was Arthur's twelfth birthday <strong>and he was having a midnight feast in his dorm with the other boys. He had forced them all to buy him presents, under threat of sending them to his father, and so they had complied, spending the money sent to them from parents on chocolate, cake and toy soldiers. Arthur repaid them by letting them share the food but, when the school caretaker caught them, he would not own up and say that the lads were there because of him. He was too scared of his father: he would have _liked _to admit it, but he wasn't loyal enough to his friends for that. Poor Arthur barely knew what a friend was.

The card from his sister lay under his pillow:

_Dear Arty,_

_I miss you lots and lots and I love you very much. Make sure you take care of yourself at that big school. Happy Birthday!_

_Love from your favourite sister, Morgana_

The childish words and handwriting pleased him more than anything else.

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><p><strong>Arthur was fourteen <strong>and he had gone home for the summer holidays. He sat alone in his bedroom, listening to his mother and father, arguing downstairs. Their voices travelled up through the floorboards:

"Uther, can't you see what that school is turning our son into? He has no friends, he is miserable and he's _cruel_! When I sent him away, three years ago, I was scared he would be bullied. I didn't think he would become the bully!"

"That's what boys do, Igraine," Uther shouted, "it's good for him: he's becoming a man at Camelot, while a tutor would just turn him into a pansy." There was a silence, and then a low murmuring, which Arthur knew was his mother talking quietly, but threateningly. What she said, although he couldn't hear, was:

"If being a man means pushing a twelve year old into a lake, then I'd rather have Arthur be a 'pansy' or, even, I'd rather have had a girl!" Uther's face grew dark and he did not respond for a moment. Then he yelled (he was not at good at controlling his voice as his wife),

"The boy was using magic! It is strictly banned, and not just in Camelot but in all schools and some towns as well! If Arthur hadn't done it he would have been punished some other way."

"With something worse than pneumonia? Don't look at me like that, Uther, the child almost died, and I don't care whether he was magic or not. I DON'T CARE!"

Arthur covered his head with his pillow, wishing they would stop.

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><p><strong>When Arthur was fifteen,<strong> his English teacher beat him, viciously, in front of his class. He had never been any good at English and his spelling was atrocious. Arthur's anger and humiliation had got the better of him when the teacher, Professor Carlton, asked him to spell a series of words at the front of the class. Every time he got one wrong, the man would prod him with his cane, right in his stomach. Finally, after five minutes of this treatment, Arthur had snapped and screamed:

"You stupid hypocrite! You ugly old man! Saying I can't spell when I heard you admit to Professor Gaden that you couldn't do seven times thirteen!" no sooner were the words out of his mouth than Professor Carlton was striking him with the cane. Thirteen strokes for his rudeness and for being an incompetent speller. He told Arthur he was lucky he didn't multiply them by seven.

It wasn't the first time Arthur had been beaten, but it was the first time he didn't go running to his father. He was determined to take it on the chin.

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><p><strong>By the time Arthur was sixteen <strong>he still had few real friends, apart from his sister... but even she had grown distant over the last few years and, as she got older, took every opportunity to annoy him. But, he was generally well liked by the upper school and had people who admired him, and would trail him around, following his example of terrorising younger students getting countless people into trouble, whilst somehow managing to avoid the blame themselves. You could hardly say that they and Arthur were close, however: both sides kept their secrets heavily guarded.

It was when Arthur was sixteen that King Ethan Pangdrone passed the law that magic was not only to be banned in schools, major cities and workplaces, but in the whole of England.

And it was when Arthur was sixteen that a boy, with messy black hair, pale skin and strikingly blue eyes arrived at the gates of Camelot school. The boy's name was Merlin.

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><p><em>So, what do you think? Should I continue this? I have a few different plot ideas about where this story could be heading (for instance, I intend to put the lines in the summery for this fic in a future chapter), but I'd like to know what you think before I write it all up :) THANKYOUSOMUCH FOR READING :D<em>


	2. Chapter 1

_WELL! I am overjoyed, because of all you AMAZING people :') with 14 reviews this is the most successful first chapter I've written so far *squeals* and what makes it better is that everyone who reviewed wanted me to continue! SO, for the good of the people, I have: voila! _

_Thanks to all me lovely first reviewers: CeeRat, Finchj, Makkan, A Fan, Bailieboro, Cherrytree007, iLoveNonFiction, Hiddenworldwalker, CM, Litra, FreakShowonLegs, SupernaturalfreakisSG-1fan20, kkckat and doctor-emily001. Also thanks to everyone who faved/alerted to this._

_QUICK NOTE: I realise I spelt Arthur's mum's name with an 'I' when everyone else on fanfiction spells it with a 'Y'... I think I'm using the old legends version, and I'm going to keep it as this is an AU fic... just in case you were confused :)_

_OOOH ANOTHER QUICK NOTE: There's been a problem with my fanfiction so that not everyone reviews shows up :( DON'T WORRY though, becuase I got your review by email (aiming this message at the lovely CeeRat... also, CeeRat, on a slightly unrelated topic, you might want to check out They Told Me it Was Catching at some point, because I think I confused y'all with my authors note... lol at my life) ANYWAY: ON WITH THE FIC! (who did I steal that phrase from?)_

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><p><strong>Chapter 1<strong>

Arthur was in an English lesson, gazing absentmindedly out of the window. The English classrooms were all facing towards the school entrance, and you could just see the corner of the lake to the far right. Arthur wasn't really looking: his eyes were unfocused as he let Professor Carlton's voice wash over him but, out of the corner of his eye, he could see something moving.

He blinked and then looked properly, to see a small figure, standing outside Camelot's gate. After a few minutes, he saw the head boy, Lancelot, striding from the building to meet the boy. The gates were swung open and Arthur watched as Lancelot (the smarmy git) introduced himself, shaking hands with the boy, and then leading him through the gate and up to the school. Arthur's interest in the new student faded as he glared at Lancelot: he'd never liked him much... he was too _good_. Never got his hands dirty, all upright and proper, and _everyone _loved him. Arthur sighed and then slumped back in his seat. Immediately, Professor Carlton was rapping his ruler on Arthur's desk, telling him to sit up.

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><p>If life had been going well for Merlin he would never have been at the gates of Camelot boarding school. If life had been going well, he would be at home with his mother (and his father... but as I say, life had to be <em>good <em>for that), in their little house in the countryside and Merlin would be completely normal. He wouldn't be able to do these _things _with his mind and his eyes and his hands, which he had been forced into rejecting because of society: literally, when he was younger, his body had rejected the magic, making him ill and weak, till he realised that the magic wasn't something separate to him that he could just throw away: it was part of him.

Then, two days ago, King Ethan had declared that anyone possessing magic or using sorcery was to be immediately arrested and executed. Merlin had packed his favourite canvas bag, kissed his mother goodbye, and set off for school. Things had been rocky for a while, and Merlin had been beaten up and picked on more times than he could count for using magic. Over the last few months, he had to stop using magic unless it was absolutely vital, because the king was getting more edgy about sorcerers plotting against him with every passing day. This new law being passed had been inevitable: they'd all been expecting it, so Merlin's mother, Hunith, had enrolled Merlin in Camelot's, where boys could be educated from aged eleven to eighteen, just in case. Then he could go there and hide, where no one knew him. He could start afresh.

And now, Merlin stared up at the great building, with a sense of awe: it wasn't his choice to be here, but Merlin wasn't one to be kept cooped up. He never would have been happy stuck in his little village forever. He needed change and adventure.

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><p>A young man came to meet him, and Merlin guessed he was in his last year at school, so about two years older than himself.<p>

"Hello," the man said, in a tone one would describe as 'pompous', "you must be Merlin?" Merlin smiled, nervously, and Lancelot was at once endeared by the boy's expression.

"Yes," he said, his voice soft, but Lancelot had enough experience of unruly boys to not allow himself to be fooled easily: the boy may be new and scared and _sweet_ but he could still have as much venom inside him as the snobbish Arthur.

"I'm Lancelot," he said, pushing these thoughts aside and deciding to give the kid a chance. He held out his hand and Merlin took it, tentatively. His grasp was firm and, as he looked into Lancelot's face, Lancelot got the strange feeling that Merlin knew exactly what he'd been thinking. It both unnerved and intrigued him.

Merlin liked Lancelot: he looked safe. But, Lancelot wasn't so sure about Merlin. It was easy to tell. Merlin could positively feel the insecurity radiating out of him, which made him a little sad, but he was used to it.

"You're first lesson," Lancelot was saying, as they entered the school building, "is English. There's no map, so you'll have to learn your own way around the school. Your classmates should help you," Merlin noted Lancelot's doubtful tone as he said this.

"I'll be fine," Merlin told him, trying to sound confident but, really, his insides were squirming. Lancelot glanced at him, and felt sympathy pooling in his stomach; no new student was ever _fine _at Camelot's. Of course, he didn't say this.

"I'm sure you will," he replied, "but I'll take you to English. If you need any help just come and find me." Merlin nodded.

They stopped walking outside a wooden door, and Lancelot knocked.

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><p>"Come in," a voice called, and Lancelot pushed the door open. Inside were around twenty boys, who all looked up from where they were scribbling on pieces of paper, to see the new arrival. Merlin noticed one boy who didn't move an inch, sitting by a window and staring, almost resolutely, out of it.<p>

"Good afternoon, Lancelot," the teacher at the front of the class said.

"Good afternoon, sir. This is Merlin," and Lancelot prodded Merlin in the back so that he stumbled into the room. He flushed pink as some of the boys sniggered.

"Ah yes... there's a spare seat over there, next to Arthur, Merlin." The teacher pointed to the boy by the window, whose head snapped around at the mention of his name. He glared at Merlin. Merlin noticed how the other boys looked away, almost as though they felt sorry for him. Not a good sign, Merlin thought, glumly, as he went to sit next to the boy.

"Hi," he said, quietly, looking at the boy, Arthur. He just rolled his eyes and turned away again. Merlin frowned, and muttered, "Fine, then," in a cross little voice. Although Merlin couldn't see it, Arthur's eyes widened.

"Excuse me?" he said, still not facing the new boy, his tone heavy with disbelief. Merlin was about to open his mouth to repeat himself, when the teacher said,

"Merlin, I don't believe you know how school works? Basically, when I talk, you don't, or you might find yourself out of this classroom as quickly as you entered it." As everyone looked at him again, Merlin wanted to shrink and disappear. The truth was that, although Merlin was generally a polite young man, he hadn't ever been to school and Professor Carlton was right: he had no idea how it worked. So, it really wasn't his fault when he said:

"If school is about humiliating people and having to sit next to prats like this," here he gestured towards Arthur, "then I wouldn't mind finding myself out of the classroom." At this, Arthur sprang to his feet in outrage, and Professor Carlton went very red. Merlin wasn't sure who to be more wary of. He guessed that Arthur was the more immediate problem, seeing as how he was bearing down on Merlin like he was his prey.

"What are you going to do?" Merlin asked coolly.

"Teach you a lesson," Arthur snarled, reaching forwards and pulling Merlin to his feet. Merlin smirked, feeling the magic swirl up inside him.

"I'd like to see you try." He said.

"Arthur, sit down _now_," Professor Carlton yelled, walking forwards and pushing Arthur into his seat, "And Merlin go stand in the corner, facing the wall. You have a detention in here tonight. _Both _of you." He added, before Arthur could give a triumphant smile. Merlin's jaw dropped. Why did _he _have to stand by the wall? He shot Arthur a furious look, before picking up his bag and walking to the corner, where he stationed himself, glaring at the stone. He guessed it had been sort of worth it, to call Arthur a prat. It meant that Merlin didn't have to join in the lesson, after all, and he really had no inclination to be learning right now. Also, Merlin decided not to mention that he had no idea what a detention was.

With an hour and a half of the lesson left, this was going to be a very long day.

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><p><em>And so Arty and Merlin didn't exactly hit it off... much like in the program :s Poor Merlin :( I hope this chapter lived up to your expectations... I'm going to try and get chapter two up on Wednesday... Please keep reviewing and MUCHLOVE :D<em>


	3. Chapter 2

_It's Wednesday! And, it's Wednesday afternoon (in England anyways) which means we're over halfway through the working week which means IT'S ALMOST THE WEEKEND YAYA! Well, I'm very happy I've managed to write this chapter on time because I've had tests this week which has made it a little hard to find writing time... good thing I'm only ickle and the tests aren't that important... but the way the teachers go on about them! The stress has been surprisingly immense... ANYWAY, I love you guys SO MUCH! 23 reviews for 2 chapters *dies* and 14 favourites *comes back to life and dies again*. Yup I love you all._

_Well, here's chapter 2! Please Review :)_

_On with the fic! (a phrase stolen from ultra-geek, thanks for the heads up, CeeRat :D)_

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><p><strong>Chapter 2<strong>

When the bell finally rang, signalling the end of the lesson, Merlin was the first out of the door: he didn't have to pack up his bag like the other boys. He just left, moving quickly, with his head bowed. One of the boys stuck out his foot, but Merlin hopped over it, with a satisfied grin.

Once out of the room, Merlin didn't stop walking. It was only after ten minutes that he realised he was completely lost. Lancelot hadn't even told him what lesson he had after English. In fact, all he knew about his schedule for the day was that he had a detention at the end of it, whatever that was. He closed his eyes and leaned against the wall of the corridor. He wanted to go home. Forget adventure. Forget change. He wanted his mother's arms around him, and to be somewhere safe with people who loved him...

"Merlin?" Merlin's eyes snapped open at the sound of his name. He raised his hand to quickly brush away the tear which had fallen onto his cheek to see an old man, walking towards him.

"Gaius?" he asked, the relief obvious in his voice.

"Yes, my boy... I expected you to come to me straightaway! Your mother said you were coming,"

"I have a letter for you," Merlin said, pulling an envelope from his pocket and handing it to the school physician. Merlin had completely forgotten that the reason he had come to Camelot's was because one of his mother's old friends worked there.

Gaius looked down at the envelope and then put it into his pocket to read later.

"Merlin," Gaius looked up to see the gangly, dark haired teenager who, he suddenly noticed, looked a little more than distressed: he had dark circles around his eyes, which were red, and he had seen him trying to discreetly wipe away a tear mere moments before.

"Yes?" the boy asked.

"Come with me," Gaius replied, after a moment's hesitation. He then led Merlin up through the school.

Merlin's feet dragged as he walked, and Gaius could hear them, scraping against the floor.

"You only have one pair of shoes, Merlin. Best keep them together." Gaius told the boy, firmly but kindly, already sounding resolved to take care of him. The noise stopped as Merlin began to walk normally, but now his heart dragged. He _really _didn't like Arthur.

"Gaius," he said after a moment, "what's my next lesson? What will happen if I'm late?"

"I expect that your next lesson is sports. Archery, I believe. I will give you a note explaining to Professor Lenix why you're late, but you can't go there without the proper sportswear anyway." Merlin frowned, about to open his mouth and ask why he needed 'sportswear' to go outside and mess around with a bow and arrow, but Gaius was pushing open a door, with a plaque on it reading _School Physician_, and Merlin decided not to worry.

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><p>Inside the physician's room, there were several beds, some of which had boys in them, groaning and whimpering, or just sleeping.<p>

"Through here, Merlin," Gaius said, in a hushed voice, beckoning for Merlin to follow him through another door at the back. In this room, there were no patients, just cluttered tables, covered in bottles of medicine, and shelves stacked with heavy books. Merlin gazed around him, his smile returning. Gaius noted this with pleasure: Merlin's smile incredibly uplifting. Gaius then began to walk to a cupboard,

"I've got your uniform and sportswear in here," he was saying. He reached the cupboard and wrenched open the doors: as he did, however, a heavy, metal vase which Gaius used to store herbs, and which stood precariously atop the cupboard, wobbled and fell.

Instinctively, Merlin shot out a thread of invisible force, which curled around the vase and threw it to the other side of the room, where it clattered to the floor. Gaius spun around, just in time for to see Merlin's eyes fade back from gold to blue.

"How did you do that?" he demanded, stalking back over to the child, who had gone crimson, and was stammering.

"I don't know... I-I just can. Please, no one must know!"

"Yes, I realise that. Of course I will not tell anyone. But... you're sure you didn't learn this somewhere?"

"Yes... I was born like this, Gaius. I'm sorry." Merlin looked at his shoes, as if ashamed.

"Merlin," Gaius put his hands on Merlin's shoulders, "there is nothing to be sorry for. That vase would have killed me. I am very thankful you have the gifts you do. But, I beg you to be careful." Merlin's relief at having found an ally in the old man was obvious, and he nodded earnestly:

"No one will ever find out while I'm here, Gaius. No one."

Gaius then handed over Merlin's uniform. Merlin noticed that it was different to Arthur's and most of the other boy's. Gaius explained that Merlin's mother hadn't been able to afford a new uniform, and this was the best he could find: the cotton shirt was very thin, and the trousers scratchy. There was a neck scarf where everyone else wore a tie, and a rope instead of a belt. When Merlin looked at himself in the mirror, you could only just recognise him as a Camelot's boy. A poor Camelot's boy.

"Thank you so much, Gaius," he said, honestly and politely: better a second hand uniform than none at all. Gaius smiled a little sadly, knowing how it must feel to arrive in a new place and to feel unaccepted. The clothing would not help.

"Well, you should probably change into this now, anyway," Gaius handed Merlin the sportswear, which was a simple white cotton shirt and white shorts, "I just wanted you to try those on," he gestured to what Merlin was wearing, "to make sure it all fit." He didn't say how, even if it hadn't fit (which, really, it didn't: the shirt was too big) Merlin would've been stuck with it anyway.

Merlin changed into his new sportswear, and Gaius gave him instructions to the training grounds outside, along with the note explaining why Merlin was late. Just before Merlin slipped from the room, he ducked back and asked,

"Gaius, what's a detention?"

Gaius frowned, "why?" he asked, suspiciously. Merlin shrugged,

"I've been given one." Merlin almost laughed at how high and how fast Gaius' eyebrow shot up his forehead.

"Already? Really, Merlin!"

"What is it?" Merlin repeated. Gaius sighed.

"It's a punishment, Merlin. Just go along to the classroom after school, and your teacher will instruct you on what to do, to make up for your behaviour in class." Merlin opened his mouth to complain, loudly, at the unfairness of him being punished because of how rude Arthur was, but Gaius interrupted before he could even get started, "you can tell me about it later, Merlin. Now, get to the lesson, before it finishes!"

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><p>Gaius watched, already fondly, as Merlin dashed from the room, and then took Hunith's letter out his pocket. He skimmed it, his only recently descended eyebrow rising once more with every word. Phrases jumped out at him which made his heartbeat quicken:<p>

_Merlin is special... he has magic... he is alone... there are rumours of a purge... if he stayed here then he would have been arrested and executed... oh, Gaius, he is in danger wherever he goes... he could do magic before he could walk and talk!...He was _born _like this_.

_Born like this._

Impossible.

And yet he'd seen it for himself: Merlin really was a wonder, and like none other Gaius had ever known.

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><p>Merlin was sweating by the time he reached the grounds: it had been a long journey, and he had ran for most of it, worried about being late, even with Gaius' note: if he had got a detention for standing up to that absolute <em>prat<em>, Arthur, then who knew what kind of trouble he's be in for arriving to a class half an hour late.

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><p>Sports was Arthur's favourite subject: he was finest at fencing and Archery, but was also a brilliant rugby player, and one of the best boxers in the school. In fact he was good at practically every physical activity he tried, which was why the teacher, Professor Lenix, loved him. Arthur <em>never <em>got into trouble in sports, except when Lenix was trying to push him to reach some goal, and Arthur didn't get angry with him: he understood that Lenix was helping rather than hindering him.

So, he had been outside for half an hour, in his element, warming up under the bright, yet cold, September sun, when he spotted the idiot boy, Merlin, run onto the field. His face, which had been so pale in English, was flushed red from the exercise and he was sweating, lightly. Arthur snorted: the boy had probably got lost during his plight to get away from Arthur after the last lesson. It was with a satisfied smile that Arthur imagined how Lenix would flay the boy alive for being so late.

But then, Merlin was producing a piece of paper and holding it up for the professor's inspection. Lenix frowned down at Merlin, shrugged, and then pushed him, roughly, forwards to join the others. "It looks like you've already done your warming up," Lenix said, loudly for all the boys to hear, referring to Merlin's panting breaths and crimson cheeks which, at the sound of the other boys' laughter, went darker still, "so I guess I don't have to make you do laps. Now, everyone get into pairs so we can start!"

Immediately, there was a scrambling as they all tried to pair up with their friends, and Merlin stood back, watching with horror as Arthur waved away all his respective partners, and glared straight at him. _please, no, _Merlin groaned, inwardly, as Arthur walked towards him.

"So, you still think I can't teach you a lesson, _Mer_lin?" Arthur said Merlin's name, stressing the first syllable in an annoying, patronising manner. Somehow, Merlin still managed to grin, as he quipped,

"I don't think you're able to teach _anyone_ a lesson, Arthur. You have to have knowledge in at least one subject for that." Arthur simply stared in disbelief at the boy's insolence, before saying,

"I think you'll find that it doesn't take much knowledge in any subject to teach an idiot like you to show some respect."

"Well that's good, because you haven't any knowledge... unless you have to be knowledgeable to be such a prat." Ouch. Arthur almost winced: he'd walked straight into that one. Perhaps, with one of the students he'd known for a long time and was closer with, he would have said 'touché' to such an insult, but this was Merlin. An insufferable new kid who needed to be put in his place. He glared at the boy, who glared right back, and then Arthur turned on his heels.

"Professor," Arthur said to Lenix, "professor, I was wondering... I can easily hit bull's eye with a still target. Wouldn't it be much better practice if I were to use a moving one?" Lenix looked at Arthur, considering.

"Yes, I suppose it would. Who are you working with?"

"Merlin, over there." He pointed to where Merlin stood, watching. Lenix could barely contain his smirk: the boy was far too wiry, with hardly any muscles, by the looks of it, to be good at much sport, apart from perhaps running. Maybe swimming, with practice.

"He doesn't look like he's going to get much done in this lesson, unless he gives you a hand... get him to hold a target... or better yet, strap it to his back, and go find yourselves an empty space. Yes, it should help greatly with your aim." Lenix nodded, approvingly, deciding not to think about how many bruises the boy, Merlin, would receive after such treatment.

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><p><em>You see what I'm doing here? I'm planning on having some parts similar to the program, but the general plot is different... oh and, seeing as I've had nothing better to do once I've finished my exam papers, I just sit there till the test ends thinking up bromancy moments that I intend to put in this story. Sad, I know, but it's better than staring at the clock (which doesn't work, by the way :s). Basically, what I'm saying is AWAIT THE BROMANCE! <em>

_See you Saturday :)_


	4. Chapter 3

_Chapter three is here :D You're reviews were super inspiring for the last chapter, and a few of them helped me think up plotlines and things, which is great so thanks guys :) please keep reviewing!_

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><p><strong>Chapter 3<strong>

Merlin stared at Arthur in utter disbelief, as the target was thrust into his arms. It was a huge and heavy thing: A thick slab of rounded wood which Merlin couldn't lift. He looked from the target to Arthur and back again.

"You cannot be serious." He finally managed to say. Arthur smirked, before saying,

"Deadly." And Merlin gulped. The action surprised him: he didn't realise people actually gulped when they were scared... he thought that was just for comic effect in stories. Well, it seemed to amuse Arthur, anyway, whose smile widened. "Here," Arthur lifted the target, "let me help you, _Mer_lin." And he kicked Merlin, making him spin, so that his back was to the other boy. Arthur slammed the target against his back, and pulled his arms through the straps. Then he stood back.

Merlin's knees buckled, instantly, and Arthur had to jump forwards to hold him upright for a few more moments. Eventually, Merlin was able to straighten up, although the strain on his shoulders was great. He gritted his teeth, and forced himself to not so much as tremble in front of Arthur. He would have shrugged the target straight back off, had Professor Lenix not been peering at them from across the field.

Once Arthur was sure Merlin wasn't going to collapse, he moved away, and instructed:

"Run."

"What?" Merlin gasped, flabbergasted.

"Run! Come on, I don't have all day!" Merlin's jaw dropped and, had he been facing him, Arthur would have seen and made a stark comment about how much Merlin looked like a fish. Then, Merlin clamped his lips shut, and ran.

Merlin had always been fast. Clumsy, but quick, charging down streets and up stairs; constantly tripping and knocking things over, but always managing to get away. It was rather sad, how often Merlin had had to run to get away from things. From people. And now, he was running from Arthur, as fast as he could, his feet pounding against the mud and the heels on his shoes, forcing up the earth so that it flew behind him with every step. And the target weighed down on him, unbalancing him so, when he leant even an inch forwards, he felt he would tumble to the ground.

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><p>Arthur had been surprised when Merlin had taken off, charging away, the target swinging ludicrously on his back. God, the boy was fast! Even with the extra weight, Merlin kept up a steady pace although, admittedly, he did start to lag after the first hundred meters. Arthur raised his crossbow and aimed it straight at the bull's eye. About a meter north of his target, was the top of Merlin's head: a tuft of jet black hair sticking up above the wood. Arthur took a steadying breath, and wondered whether if he ought to be doing this: he was using a real arrow, with a sharp, metal point. He closed his eyes for a second, and then opened them and focused. After one more moment, he let the arrow fly. He couldn't hear it, but he saw it thud into the wood of the target, directly in the centre.<p>

Merlin hadn't been expecting Arthur to actually hit the target: he was certain the boy would miss, so it came as a shock when the thing hit the wood, and he was thrown forwards, his face in the mud. The target to a second longer to fall as the straps were loose, and it collapsed onto his shoulders and wacked him round the head.

"Ow." He murmured into the dirt. After a couple of seconds, he heard the pounding footsteps of Arthur running towards him, and then he was being pulled roughly to his feet.

"That was _excellent_," Arthur exclaimed, and Merlin turned to look at him, his eyebrows raised: was Arthur _complimenting _him? "I hit it! Obviously, I knew I could..." oh. So Arthur wasn't paying him a compliment.

"Yeah," Merlin grunted, "well done. Congratulations. That was really... remarkable, what with you almost killing me." Arthur snorted:

"If I had been aiming to kill you, you would be dead." No doubt Arthur had meant the statement to be impressive, but Merlin found himself giggling at the dramatised way in which he said it. Arthur frowned, not impressed. He pushed Merlin, who stumbled and fell back onto the ground, this time onto his back, with no grass to soften his fall. He wasn't sure which was more painful: the target falling on him, or him falling on the target. Arthur grinned down at him.

"So, you fancy another go? This time, try and run in different directions: there's no challenge in me hitting something that's moving straight." Merlin spluttered.

"What is your problem?" he asked, "go find someone else to take your prattishness out on: I really can't be bothered with it, myself." And then he tried to get up, only to find that he couldn't lift himself off the ground, what with the target on his back. Arthur rolled his eyes, trying to think of some smart retort, when Professor Lenix blew his whistle.

"Lesson over, boys! Hurry up and get changed."

So Arthur just cast Merlin one last smirk, and left him there, like an upside down tortoise.

* * *

><p>Lenix had watched Merlin run. Not bad, he'd thought to himself, perhaps with a little training... too bad he probably wouldn't survive his first term. Not when Arthur had obviously picked him as his next victim. Ah well.<p>

* * *

><p>Merlin stumbled and blushed his way through the rest of his first day at Camelot's: it was the clothes. They drew continuous taunts from his classmates:<p>

"Hey, new kid, what's that round your neck? Didn't _mummy _know that you needed a tie, not her old scarf?"

"Mervin, isn't it? Nice belt. Maybe everyone will start using bootlaces instead of leather at some point."

And Merlin couldn't ignore them. He couldn't help but snap back, saying that his name wasn't _Mervin_ and that they could shove their bootlaces where the sun don't shine. Of course, the boys didn't exactly appreciate being spoken to in this manner, especially when half the things coming out of Merlin's mouth were both insulting _and _clever. He had a way of twisting his words so that everyone wanted to laugh, but were too shocked by the rudeness of it. Some of the things he said, were too cryptic to understand in the first instance, and it wouldn't be until ten minutes later, and Merlin was long gone, that their faces would go purple with sudden rage.

Arthur watched with interest. He was intrigued by Merlin. The kid was... well, different. An obvious outsider. An idiot, and yet a brave one. It was an odd combination, which Arthur liked, although not enough to forgive Merlin for what he had said to Arthur at the beginning of that day.

* * *

><p>When the school day ended, Merlin was exhausted. He wanted nothing more than to find Gaius, who would then show him to his bed, where he would sleep and sleep and sleep. But, first, he had detention.<p>

He had already forgotten where the English classroom was, so kept close to Arthur, following him back to where Professor Carlton was waiting.

"Ah, hello boys," Professor Carlton ushered them inside. He noted how tired Merlin looked, and how his face was smudged with dirt. He also noticed his somewhat mismatched attire, "is that your uniform, Merlin?" he inquired, as the boys sat down, and he stood behind his desk. Merlin lowered his head in a small nod. Carlton glanced at Arthur, and was surprised to see a look of uncharacteristic sympathy flash across the boy's usually surly face.

"Here," Carlton handed both of them a sheet of plain paper each, "I decided I wasn't just going to make you sit here. You might as well write something: just tell me about something you love. It can be anything. But I want you to describe it as beautifully and fully as you can. I want a page by the end of the hour." And then Carlton sat behind his desk and began marking a stack of homework.

Merlin had noticed how Arthur sank a little lower in his chair, as Professor Carlton explained their task. It didn't sound too much like a punishment to Merlin, who chewed his pencil for a moment, and then set it to paper. After half an hour, he was three quarters of the way down his paper. Arthur still sat there, staring at the blank sheet. Almost blank, anyway: he had written one line.

At the end of the hour, Carlton stood up and began to move towards them. It shocked Merlin to see that Arthur looked almost frantic, as though it was only just dawning on him how little he had written: he was clutching his pencil so hard that his knuckles had turned white, and his face was even whiter. It was this look of fear that made Merlin do it. He took his own work and switched it with the boy's beside him. Arthur's eyes widened for a second, as he turned to look at Merlin.

Then Carlton was directly behind him, reaching forwards to read their work. Now, Carlton wasn't stupid: he knew who had written what; he had taught Arthur for five years, after all. He could tell his messy scrawl in an instant, but he wasn't going to interfere. Teachers at Camelot's did not interfere with whatever strange things went on between their students. So Carlton pretended not to know that they had swapped work. 'Arthur's' piece of writing was incredible. A couple of mistakes here and there, but a beautiful description of a small village called Ealdor. He smiled at the boy and said it was very good. Arthur didn't reply: he was staring resolutely at the table top. And then he read 'Merlin's'. All it said was:

_I love my sistre. Shes baeutiful. _

Carlton sighed and because, in his opinion, he had no choice, wrapped Merlin round the head with his knuckles.

"This isn't good enough Merlin. What have you even been doing for the last hour?" Merlin shrugged his shoulders, his eyes trained on exactly the same spot as Arthur's.

Merlin and Arthur. Carlton hadn't seen Arthur pinch or push Merlin, or even talk to him throughout the whole detention. So, was there a chance that Merlin had _willingly _switched the papers? The possibility was almost exciting. Arthur _needed _someone like Merlin. And then Carlton made a decision, which would change everything.

"Both of you, come with me. We are going to see the headmaster."

* * *

><p><em>Dum dum dum... So they're off to see Uther. Exciting times. By the way, what do you think of the whole Arthur-possibly-being-dyslexic thing? I want Arthur AND Merlin to be vulnerable in some way, but I'm not sure... feedback will be much appreciated :D See you Wednesday :)<em>


	5. Chapter 4

_Hey everyone! Sorry it's thursday instead of wednesday... if you check out my profile I've explained my predicament there. Basically I have no time :p But, I managed to write this because school's on strike today :D I'm glad about the feedback about Arthur's dyslexia... those of you who reviewed seemed to think it was a good idea :) please keep reviewing, and enjoy the chapter!_

_Oh, I didn't go back and edit this very well, so if I've made any horribly obvious mistakes, please point them out :)_

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><p><strong>Chapter 4<strong>

When the two boys and Professor Carlton reached the headmaster's office, they had to wait a few minutes: through the door they could hear the sounds of yelling.

"DO YOU WANT TO BE EXPELLED? DO YOU WANT TO LEAVE THIS SCHOOL?" and the murmurs of a reply, which sounded a lot like,

"I couldn't care less, sir." And then, a smack. A stinging kind of noise.

"If I see you in this room again, Gwaine, I will personally make sure that you're never accepted into any other school in the whole of England." And the door was flung open, and a young man pushed out. He was about the same age as Lancelot, Merlin guessed, but his appearance couldn't be more different: for one, his cheek was inflamed and red from where the headmaster had hit him, and for another, he had the air of a boy who broke the rules. A lot. His uniform was unkempt, his hair long and in want of a cut. But, somehow, he looked good. Effortlessly handsome. He cast Merlin a cheeky grin, and Merlin couldn't help but return it, with one of his own. Then the boy, Gwaine, spotted Arthur, and the smile vanished, turning into a scowl.

Carlton gave Gwaine a stern look, clearly telling him to be on his way, and then ushered the two other boys into the office instead.

Uther had his back to them, standing by the window, brooding. He was exhausted: dealing Gwaine always made him feel... drained. Now he could see the reflection of his own son in the glass, a smudge of yellow hair and pale skin. Beside Arthur stood another boy, laughably opposite in his appearance, with dark hair, an angular face and even paler skin than Arthur: paper white.

"Headmaster," Carlton took a step forwards, "could I talk to you for a moment?" Uther sighed. Dealing with the staff could be as difficult as the students sometimes.

"Of course," he said, a little wearily, turning round to face the trio.

Merlin had been trying to make himself as small and unnoticeable as possible, doing all but actually leaving the room. His back was pressed against the wall, as if he was attempting to sink into it. It didn't work, however.

"Who are you?" Uther glared at Merlin, who bit his lip, before saying.

"My name's Merlin. I-I'm new." The headmaster bent down to his eyes were level with Merlin's. He was a skinny thing, ridiculous ears, incredibly blue eyes. Pale. Sickly looking. Dirty.

Uther wondered what his son had done this time. He straightened up to look at Carlton again, and decided it would be best just to ask:

"What has my son done now, Carlton? Beaten the boy? Tricked him? Laughed at him?" As he spoke, Arthur's head lowered, ashamedly, while Merlin stared at him, surprised: Arthur was the headmaster's _son?_

"No, no, nothing like that," Carlton said, quickly, "no, I just had an idea in my English class, with these two boys today," both Arthur and Merlin picked up on how Carlton didn't say 'English _detention_' "and I was thinking that Merlin really needs some sort of mentor. And, I believe that Merlin will be _good _for Arthur." While Uther's eyebrows rose, Merlin's eyes widened and Arthur's jaw dropped.

Uther looked at the boys again, considering. So, Merlin would be good for his son?

Arthur stared, imploringly at his father, his every feature _begging him_ not to agree.

Merlin observed how many laugh lines Professor Pendragon had at the corner of his eyes.

Carlton crossed his fingers, behind his back.

"Fine," Uther said, after the briefest of moments, trying not to care when his son's face fell into a look of disappointment and resentment, "Arthur, you can mentor the boy." Carlton beamed, and was just about to hurry the students out, when Uther added something to soften the blow for his son, but harden it for Merlin: "but Merlin, you'll have to do whatever Arthur asks. It'll be your duty, and in return, Arthur will see you safely to classes." Merlin's eyes flashed, furiously: so, he was to become Arthur's servant? Carlton didn't look too please at the way the agreement had gone, but he said nothing.

Maybe, if both boys were helping each other, everything might still work out. Carlton could just see that Merlin would be the perfect person to help change Arthur, in the best possible light.

* * *

><p>Arthur stomped from his father's office, his mouth set in a hard, furious line. Merlin trailed along behind him, wondering how he had managed to get himself into such a horrible situation, quite so quickly.<p>

"Well, you might as well go up to your dormitory, boys. Dinner's not for another hour, after all." They both gave him a sullen nod, and then traipsed off.

Merlin hated how he was now going to have to rely on Arthur: he didn't have a clue where he was going, while the blonde man walked with purpose.

"There aren't enough beds for you," Arthur said, once they had entered the dormitory: there were eleven beds, each reserved by a trunk, stationed at the foot of all of them. Merlin watched, feeling even more downcast, as Arthur threw himself onto his bed, picked up piece of paper and pencil and began to draw. Merlin just stood there, wondering what to do. After a few moments, when it appeared Arthur was going to be no help whatsoever, Merlin turned on his heels and left.

* * *

><p>It took him forty minutes out of the hour to find Gaius' room again. He stumbled inside, to see the physician, bending over one of the boys and giving him some sort of tonic. Merlin waited till Gaius was finished, and then cleared his throat, making the old man start.<p>

"Oh, Merlin! It's you. Well, how's your day been?" He asked. Merlin just stared at him, unsure about where to begin.

When the boy had finished explaining to Gaius about the sports lesson, Gaius gently led him to one of the empty beds in the ward and set him down. He then instructed Merlin to take of his shirt, which he did, a little reluctantly.

Merlin's back was covered in bruises which roughly decorated his shoulder blades, colouring his skin a gruesome blue. Gaius sighed, and went to fetch a paste which he then gently applied to the bruises, smearing it over every inch of skin. Merlin winced: it wasn't until now that he realised how much pain he had been in ever since the end of sports. When Gaius was finished, he told Merlin not to move, and to continue telling him about his day.

"And now, I have to wait on Arthur like a servant! Like he doesn't have half the school at his feet anyway; he's _such _a prat!"

"I know, I know," Gaius agreed, patting Merlin's knee, "but it may turn out better than you think. Arthur has had a rather difficult time of it here," Merlin snorted,

"Sure he has." He said, sarcastically. Gaius frowned,

"I know it's hard to believe, but he has been... lonely. No one wants to get _too _close to a headmaster's son. And, on top of that, there's his dyslexia, which his father _refuses _point blank to acknowledge." Here Gaius' expression turned dark.

"Dyslexia?" Merlin asked, realisation beginning to dawn on his face.

"Yes. But, Arthur is meant to inherit this entire school when he's older: without the right education, how can he hope to be as academic as Uther? Arthur's talents lie in art, and sport, but Uther cannot see it." Merlin thought back to Uther's hard, cold expression, even when looking at his own child. He didn't have any trouble imagining the man perhaps even hitting Arthur like he hit Gwaine, because his son could not read as well as the other boys.

After a few more minutes, Gaius showed Merlin to another little room, leading off his own, with a tiny spare bed, where Merlin could sleep. The room was very small, and cold, but Merlin assured Gaius that it was perfect.

"You've missed dinner, I'm afraid," Gaius told him, "but you can share my soup before you go to sleep. I'll let Arthur know where you're sleeping so he can come fetch you tomorrow morning." Merlin groaned, and Gaius chuckled.

* * *

><p>Arthur sat at the dinner table, surrounded by his 'friends', with his eyes roving around the hall. Where was Merlin? He couldn't see the boy anywhere. He tried to convince himself that what he was feeling was relief, rather than disappointment.<p>

* * *

><p>Merlin tossed and turned in his bed, long after midnight, the black sky filling his little room. He squeezed his eyes, tight shut, but sleep wouldn't come. His back ached, terribly, so that a few times he thought he might actually be sick from the pain. Gaius had left the jar of past on his bedside table, but it was hard to put it on his injuries himself, so it sat there, unopened.<p>

There was also something else keeping the warlock awake: a voice.

At first, Merlin had convinced himself it was nothing, just his own imagination, but over the hours it had become louder, more assertive, and saying one thing:

"_Merlin...Merlin..."_ his name, over and over again. He tried pressing his hands over his ears, but the sound was _inside _his head. Finally, with a groan of frustration, he got to his feet, his battered body protesting, heavily.

He crept past Gaius, fuelled by curiosity, and then left the physician's rooms all together, so that he was in the corridor. He found that, if he concentrated, he could tell from which direction the voice was coming from, even though it was inside him. It was strange, painful and confusing, but Merlin trod carefully, led by his own name, down staircase after staircase.

"_Merlin... MERLIN..." _

* * *

><p><em>So... what you think? You were all asking for Gwaine, so I thought it would be a great oppurtunity to throw him in there at the beginning :D Also, I'm sure you can guess what the voice is about but I ended it there because I was wondering what you thought about having the dragon in this fic... do you think it should be a dragon or something else, because it's AU? Any suggestions? Oh, and lastly, this fic IS set in the past so I'm not sure if they would have discovered dyslexia and stuff, but I'm acting as though they have, just to make it easier, to be honest. I hope you don't mind... artistic lisence and all that... Anyway, thanks for reading!<em>


	6. Chapter 5

_Hey everyone, really sorry it's been a while since I updated... I've just been quite busy recently :s I hope this chapter makes up for it :D_

_Thank you to everyone who's reviewed/faved this, you're amazing :D_

_Also, cheers to FreakShowonLegs, for your awesome idea about the dragon... I did change it, but the essence of your idea is still very much there, I think :D_

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><p><strong>Chapter 5 <strong>

Merlin rolled his shoulders, trying to loosen them as he jogged down the many stairs and out into the night. His back screamed in protest at the movement, but he kept on moving, following the strange voice in his head:

"_Merlin... Merlin..._"

Within minutes, he had left the school far behind him, and was striding across the grounds, his head twisting and turning as he tried to figure out where he was being led to. After about twenty minutes, it seemed he had finally reached his destination: he was now round the back of the school, and when he looked over his shoulder, he could see its vast silhouette. What was before him, however, was much more important. A clump of bushes, which huddled around the outskirts of the woods, separating the school from the rest of the world and, on the floor between these bushes, a stone.

It was a great, rectangular slab, just sitting there and, when Merlin knelt beside it, the screaming of his name got so loud, that his eyes became slits as he cringed and squinted. He looked at the stone for one more moment, before throwing himself against it... it was too heavy. He slammed himself against the rock, again and again, before giving up, panting. Then, he cast a furtive glance about him, and raised his hand. His eyes flashed gold, and the stone slid backwards, pushing past the foliage and revealing a set of stairs, leading deep under the ground.

Merlin straightened up, his heart quickening in his excitement. He seized a stick from the floor and cast a spell causing it to light and stay lit. Then, he began to descend the stairs, ducking his head so as not to hit it on the low, earthy ceiling, and holding the stick as low as he could, the flames casting a flickering glow across the dank walls.

After about a minute, he reached the bottom, and a smile flitted across his face, as he started forwards, fuelled by his curiosity, only to give a startled shout as his right foot slipped. He only just managed to jump backwards, sweat springing from the pores on his forehead, and stop himself falling off the edge of a deep chasm. He took a moment to take a steadying breath, and then crept forwards, to peer over the edge. He could not see the bottom.

"Young Warlock," the voice spoke, and Merlin jumped because it really was _speaking_: it wasn't inside his head. It was swirling through the air, meeting his ears.

"Who are you?" Merlin asked, swinging his makeshift torch, squinting into the blackness. There was a dry chuckle, and the noise reverberated around the underground cave, bouncing off the walls and making it impossible for Merlin to tell from which direction it came.

He span on the spot, to look at the wall to his left. He frowned at it, for a moment, and then his eyes widened as he saw something twitch on its surface. He bit his lip, and then crept closer.

"Hello?" Merlin said, quietly, edging ever closer.

"Merlin-"

"How do you know my name!" Merlin cried, staring at the tiny creature, which sat clinging to the wall. A little lizard, which glared at him with caramel eyes. It flicked out his tongue at him, blinking slowly, as Merlin came to terms with the fact that he'd been talking to a _lizard_. A _lizard _had been inside his head.

"Oh my God," Merlin cried, turning away from the creature to raise a hand to his head, "this cannot be happening. This... this is _mental! _How did you talk to me like that?"

"Merlin-"

"This is the most absurd, ridiculous thing that's ever-"

"_MERLIN!_" The voice roared, and Merlin stopped talking.

"Yes?" he asked, turning back to the lizard.

"Merlin, I'm up here."

"What?" Merlin frowned, as he realised the lizard's lips didn't move in time with the speech. And then, "oh." He muttered, blushing as he turned and looked up, above the chasm, to the ceiling.

Chained there, was a man, looking down at Merlin with an amused expression on his face.

Except he wasn't just 'a man'. He had the shape of a man, sure: a head, two arms and two legs, but his skin... well, his skin wasn't skin. It was scales; dark, orangey scales which covered his entire body, and his nails were long and thick, his eyes great yellow orbs. He was completely bald, and naked, his chains the only thing covering his modesty.

Merlin stared up at him, his mouth hanging open, before the man muttered something, and the little lizard began scurrying up the wall, till it reached the strange man. Merlin watched as it settled on his shoulder.

"Who are you?" Merlin asked, very aware of how awe-filled his voice was. The man twitched, his chains clinking.

"My name," he said, "is unimportant. My name has been stripped from me, like my clothes and skin." his voice was spiked with anger and resentment, and Merlin wasn't surprised.

"Why?" he asked, his voice a hushed whisper.

"Because I have magic, much like yourself, Young Warlock."

"What are you talking about?" Merlin said, quickly, "I'm not a warlock, I-"

"Merlin. Do not lie," the man interrupted, so Merlin stopped lying.

"How did you get here?" he asked, instead, "_what are you_?"

"I was put here, by Uther Pendragon. Of course, it was his brother who persuaded him to do it. But you do not need to know about that now, Young Warlock. How I came to be here is not relevant to you, yet. As for what I am, I suppose you may call me the Great Dragon. At least, that is what I once was. Now, I am trapped inside this body."

"You're... you're a _dragon_?" Merlin gasped.

"Yes. And I have been waiting for you, for many years, Merlin. Because you are the key to my release, and to the future of Camelot. And, even to the future of England."

"What are you talking about?" Merlin asked, confused.

"Your destiny, Merlin! Your destiny."

"I haven't got a destiny," Merlin cried.

"Yes, you do, and it is closely entwined with the young man's, Arthur Pendragon. It is your destiny to keep the son of Uther out of harm's way. To protect him and turn him into a man who will accept magic, and allow it to return to Camelot."

"But... but magic will never return to Camelot, unless it returns to England first!"

"Precisely." The Great Dragon said. Merlin stared.

"Are you saying, that one day it will be in Arthur's power to change the law?" it was a ridiculous notion: Arthur was just the son of an old headmaster!

"I am not saying anything, Merlin, apart from this: you and Arthur are two sides of the same coin. You may not see that yet, but before long you'll find that you depend on each other greatly, and the future of this country lies in your hands."

* * *

><p>About half an hour later, when Merlin climbed into bed, his hands finally stopped trembling. His talk with the Great Dragon already felt like a dream. Destiny? <em>Destiny? <em>

How had any of this happened?

Why? Why was a dragon trapped far below their feet?

How had he managed to become so closely linked with a boy he despised before even his second day at Camelot's?

_The future of this country lies in your hands._

_In your hands._

_In your hands._

Merlin fell asleep with the words chanting, over and over, in his sore skull.

* * *

><p>Arthur was furious: he had to get up ten minutes earlier than usual to fetch the idiot, Merlin. Of course, if he had to get up early, so did everyone else, so he made as much noise possible while getting dressed, so all the other boys sat up, groaning sleepily. None of them complained, when they realised it was Arthur who had woken them.<p>

Once Arthur was dressed, he stomped from the dorm and off in the direction of the sickroom. Once he reached it, he banged into the ward causing some of the patients to start awake. Gaius heard the commotion and hurried from his private room into the ward.

"Arthur, please," he said, in a hushed voice, "these boys are ill!"

"Is Merlin up yet?" Arthur asked, practically ignoring Gaius' instructions and speaking at his usual volume.

"Um... I think that he's getting up..."

"He should be dressed by now!" Arthur growled, storming past the old man and into his room.

At the back, he could see through another door, which was wide open, and the skinny, dark haired boy, hopping around, trying to pull on a sock.

"Hurry up!" Arthur yelled, angrily, and Merlin gasped, spinning around and then toppling over. Arthur laughed, but then ran forward to attempt and pull Merlin to his feet. Merlin frowned and pushed away from his 'mentor', getting up by himself.

"Are you always this clumsy?" Arthur asked, watching as Merlin snatched up his shoes. Merlin chose not to reply. Instead he yawned, widely. Arthur frowned,

"Are you tired?"

Merlin shrugged, "a bit."

"How come? Didn't you just go to bed straightaway last night? You didn't come to dinner." Merlin shrugged again, and then began searching for something.

"Your neck scarf is over there." Arthur pointed to the piece of cloth, which was sticking out from under the boy's bed. Merlin scooped it up and tied it round his neck.

"There," he said, happily, "how do I look?" he turned to face Arthur, who frowned: he hadn't expected to be asked of his opinion.

In truth, Merlin didn't look so bad. Sure his clothes were too big, and a little silly looking, but they suited him with his funny, angular face and gangly limbs. Arthur didn't say that though. What he said was:

"You look completely stupid."

Merlin's smile slipped slightly, but he quickly hitched it back, saying "well, so do you. I was just too polite to say."

Arthur snatched up the nearest thing to hand (a wooden water beaker, on a little table by the door) and threw it at the insolent boy.

Merlin ducked and it clattered against the wall behind him.

"Shut up, _Mer_lin," Arthur said, forcing himself not to smile "and I might actually let you eat some breakfast this morning."

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><p><em>So, did you like my dragon? Was he all confusing? Well, he was supposed to be so I hope so :D<em>

_I have a pretty good idea where this story is going now, but I haven't a clue how long it's going to be :S Hope you're all still enjoying it :D_

_Please review!_


	7. Chapter 6

_Chapter 6! Aw, guys, your reviews are stunning and VERY inspirational, thank you :D_

_I'm updating today instead of Saturday, because I'm going to be busy crying of Harry Potter tomorrow :'(_

_Also, I don't think I'm going to have time to update twice a week like I wanted to, so I'm going to be aiming for every Wednesday, hopefully starting next week... hope that's ok :)_

_Please enjoy and keep reviewing!_

_Oh and I keep forgetting! I got my first french review, way back for chapter 4 and it made me so immensly happy, so merci laurapi grands pas! I threw your review in google translate and got: Hello! Just to say I expect more forward, THE COURSE to be really interesting._

_Doesn't make much sense, but I'm getting good vibes from it :D_

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><p><strong>Chapter 6<strong>

Arthur couldn't explain how it felt, having Merlin at his side. When someone asked him, his automatic answer would be,

"Annoying." But then he would feel a stab of guilt at the look Merlin cast him, the boy's bright eyes clouding with hurt.

But, Merlin _was _annoying! He was an idiot. He was bad at sport. He was clumsy. So why was Arthur suddenly so protective over him? Why did he feel angry when anyone apart from himself insulted Merlin? He had absolutely no idea. All he knew was that he was being drawn away from those lads who had stuck by him while he was bullying and taunting the younger students, and that they didn't like it.

They glared at Merlin with resentment and envy thickly layered over their eyes, and Merlin seemed to barely notice. Arthur had started escorting Merlin everywhere, his eyes peeled for his old 'friends'. He knew what they were capable of. They were thugs, the lot of them, and Arthur, for some strange reason, _hated _the thought of them hurting Merlin.

Even though he knew he was a thug too. That a few weeks ago, he would have easily dragged Merlin down a corridor by his hair, and laughed as he and his cronies beat the hell out of him. It would have seemed fun.

So how? _How _had Merlin changed him? Why did his day get brighter when Merlin smiled at him, or laughed or complimented him, or even when he insulted him? Why did it not matter when Merlin answered back or was rude? He didn't understand. Arthur didn't understand how Merlin made him laugh rather than scold.

Of course, he wasn't entirely lovely towards the boy. He _had _hit him, shouted at him, thrown things at him and forced him to do about a million chores. But that was just Arthur. That was how he had grown up: ruling entirely over others. Teaching people how to obey him was just one of Arthur's talents. People _always _broke beneath Arthur.

Merlin hadn't though. That was odd. Arthur could storm about and lash out at the young man as much as he pleased, but Merlin always bounded down to breakfast the next day with that ridiculously endearing smile plastered onto his face, plonked himself next to Arthur and then dragged a plate of cereal in front of him.

* * *

><p>Arthur looked at Merlin, his expression one of half amusement, half disgust.<p>

"Do you always eat like a pig?" he inquired, as Merlin rammed his spoon into his mouth. Merlin swallowed thickly and replied,

"Do you always talk like a prat?"

Arthur glared, unimpressed, and then slammed Merlin's arm back onto the table before he could shovel in another mouthful of cereal. Merlin started to splutter, in indignation, but then giggled as the milk from his spoon splattered over the front of Arthur's shirt. Arthur looked down at it and then reached forward, pulling the loosely knotted neck scarf from around Merlin's neck. He used it to scrub away the stain and then threw it back into Merlin's face. Merlin huffed and tied it back on.

"For God's sake, Merlin!" Arthur cried, as the boy turned back to his food, "stop eating and go get me my breakfast!"

"Oh!" Merlin said, suddenly realising why Arthur had been staring at him so expectantly, "right, of course." And he hopped back to his feet, and marched off down the table, looking for a plate of sausages or bacon.

Merlin couldn't explain how it felt, being at Arthur's side, especially now he knew about how closely linked their destinies were. It wasn't like he could just up and leave: it was his duty to protect Arthur, and to serve him. It was weird. Merlin never had to serve anyone before, and he got things wrong a lot of the time. He dropped things and broke things and forgot things and said things he wasn't supposed to say. But, in a way, it was like he was born to serve. Merlin had always naturally been a person who aided others, migrating unconsciously towards people who need his help, and Arthur _definitely _needed his help.

Arthur was big headed, cruel, rude and violent.

But, Merlin knew that behind all that must be a good man. How else was he supposed to be the one to return magic to England?

Merlin shook his head as he located the sausages and tipped three onto Arthur's plate: he was still really struggling to believe that there was any way on Earth _Arthur _would be the one to complete such a task.

He looked at the boy who had, over the course of a few weeks, become something of a master, as well as a mentor, over him. It was in moments like this, Merlin thought, as he headed back towards where Arthur sat, that you could see the man's potential. He sat with his shoulders hunched, in Merlin's absence. He looked alone and painfully vulnerable, with his eyes darting around the dining hall. And _this_ was the Arthur Merlin wanted to get in touch with. The _human _Arthur. The one that felt things other than harsh hatred and resentment.

"Here you go," Merlin slid Arthur's plate under his nose, and then sat back down. Arthur gave Merlin a scathing look, for no particular reason, just because Arthur felt he was good at giving Merlin scathing looks, and then dug into his breakfast. Merlin rolled his eyes and then began wolfing down his food as fast as he could, once more.

* * *

><p>That day, several attempts were made to separate Merlin from his mentor. As they went around their lessons as usual, with Merlin carrying both his own <em>and<em> Arthur's school bags, Arthur's friends tried to drag him away, casting Merlin snide glances as they did so. But Arthur jerked his arms out of their grips, frowning at them. He hadn't realised that losing friends could be just as difficult as making them.

Not that he wanted to lose them. Of course he didn't! These people were who he belonged with! That's what he told himself, over and over. He wasn't supposed to be hanging around with weird new kids like Merlin. It didn't look good.

But it _felt _so much better being around Merlin than being around the people who boosted his reputation.

After the school day ended, there were a few hours before dinner which Merlin usually spent with Arthur, or at least doing things _for _Arthur but, as it was a Friday, Arthur told Merlin to clear off and go do whatever it was he liked doing. Merlin was touched by the gesture, however roughly delivered, and gave Arthur a fleeting grin, before dashing from his presence.

Arthur felt strange, following Merlin, but he was curious. What _did _Merlin do in his spare time? He trailed behind him, rolling his eyes at the amount of times the boy stopped, looking around him with a confused expression, obviously lost.

It was half an hour before Merlin found the place he was looking for: the music classroom.

Uther didn't set much store by music so, whereas there were several classrooms for a lot of the other subjects, there was only one for music, and it was right at the top of the school, practically in the attic, where draughts crept through gaps in the ceiling.

Merlin ascended the stairs, followed by Arthur, although he didn't know it, and then pushed open the creaky door. The music teacher, Helen, was one of the only female teachers at Camelot's and also one of the only ones that allowed her students to call her by her first name... although she liked to be called 'Lady Helen'. She was rather eccentric, but her voice was beautiful.

Arthur knew many boys who had become... _infatuated,_ with Lady Helen, and he wondered whether Merlin was sneaking up here to spy on her, as he himself had done with some other boys, years ago now... the thought almost made Arthur blush, and he had half a mind to call Merlin back and demand what exactly he thought he was doing, but then Merlin finished opening the door, and the room was empty. Arthur breathed a sigh of relief, and began to think about where he should hide so Merlin wouldn't see him as he returned down the stairs...

But then Merlin entered the empty classroom. Arthur froze, a small line creasing the skin between his eyes as he frowned. He hesitated a second, before climbing the rest of the stairs, and then peeking into the classroom.

Arthur watched as Merlin walked over to the old piano, covered in years of graffiti from the hundreds of students that had passed through Camelot's. His jaw dropped as Merlin seated himself at the instrument and then splayed his fingers over the keys.

There was a moment of silence, where Merlin's eyes roved over the ivory, and Arthur simply stared. Then, Merlin began to play.

Tears sprang, unbidden, to Arthur's eyes, and he wasn't sure if it was the sweet sound of the music or the way Merlin looked when he played, that made them come.

Merlin's eyes had closed, his body lurching gently in time to the music, his long fingers running quickly and nimbly over the keys, his back arching when the music got louder. After a few minutes of ceaseless, perfect playing, Merlin threw his head backwards, his lips parted, as though he was letting the music flow through his finger tips, up into his throat, and then he breathed it out. Like Merlin _was _the music. It was beautiful.

Arthur wondered how someone so clumsy could turn into someone so graceful, with just a piano as a prop.

But then, after perhaps five minutes, which either passed like seconds or hours, Arthur couldn't be sure, a second door, at the back of the classroom, slammed open, and Merlin's hands slipped. The music juddered to a gruesome halt.

Arthur felt his heart stutter at this rude interruption and he blinked: he hadn't realised that his eyes had been open the whole time, not moving once from the figure of Merlin.

But now they moved, and they widened as they saw the three boys. All 'friends' of Arthur. All thickset and dumb and mean. And all looking at Merlin, with stupid grins on their faces that, clearly, told Merlin he was in trouble.

They came at him, all lumbering forwards at once, and Merlin barely had time to push back the piano stool and get to his feet, before he was being knocked back to the floor. They spat down at him, their words rolling together to make one roar of abuse, so that Merlin curled into a ball his hands over his head, pressing down on his ears, while they kicked and punched him.

And Arthur just stood there, unable to move.

* * *

><p><em>ooo, sorry about the cliffy :s C'MON ARTY! Do something!<em>

_Well, this chappie was a lot about the ponderings and wonderings and thoughterings (?) of Arthur and Merlin... I hope you liked it :)_


	8. Chapter 7

_Wow, I thought I wasn't going to be able to update on time, but I managed- whoo :D_

_Breaking up for summer in a few days so scholl's gotten slightly crazy :s_

_I continue to be delighted with your reviews- please please keep 'em coming, because a lot of the time, especially for this fic, your comments give me ideas for characters/sub-plots and things, and I just adore all your feedback, to be honest :)_

_I hope you enjoy this chapter :D_

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><p><strong>Chapter 7<strong>

It wasn't that Arthur felt nothing as he watched Merlin get beaten up, because he did. He felt anger, stirring in his belly, but it wasn't enough to send him charging into the room. Wasn't enough to drag the thugs away from Merlin.

Because Arthur couldn't be so completely altered in a matter of a few weeks. This was how he had grown up, witnessing such events and simply standing by. The fact that Arthur wasn't joining in, kicking Merlin, was a tribute to the fact he was changing.

He couldn't decide what to do. He was standing there, thinking desperately about what was more important, Merlin or his status, when the two boys stood back. They had finished. Laughing at the shivering mass on the floor which was Merlin, they turned and left the way they had come.

And that was when Arthur felt sick. With himself.

He shook his head, in disbelief at how he had just stood there! And then, he entered the room.

Merlin struggled to his feet, although he remained bent double, winded and gasping. He didn't notice Arthur standing there, at first, and that was what scared him most: in a matter of seconds, he had been going to use magic, to try and tidy the room. He would have also tried healing the already forming bruises, but he had never been very good at healing magic. And Arthur would have seen.

"Merlin," Arthur cursed the uncertainty, and concern, that showed through when he said that single word, "are you..."

"I'm fine," Merlin replied, straightening up, but wincing. He did not want to appear weak in front of Arthur, but it appeared that the other boy did not care for Merlin's pride, or how humiliated he might feel, if he found out Arthur had watched the whole thing.

"You're not fine," Arthur said, firmly and without thinking, "I _saw _them beating you, Merlin."

Arthur watched as the little colour left in Merlin's face drained, and then came flooding back, and ugly red flush spreading up his neck into his cheeks.

"You... you _saw_?" he choked, unsure whether he was ashamed or just _really _angry. Arthur hesitated. He suddenly realised that he didn't want Merlin to know how he simply stood by, allowing the boy to have the hell kicked out of him.

"Well, I was outside, but I came too late-"

"Don't lie!" Merlin cried, because he knew Arthur was lying. He had felt a presence nearby, whilst playing the piano, but had dismissed it and, besides, Arthur's tone had changed to become even haughtier than usual. Merlin had learned that Arthur's voice only went like that when he wasn't telling the truth, or was trying to defend himself. In this case, Arthur was doing both.

"How dare you!" He cried, "I'm not lying." Merlin snorted, and then turned to push in the piano stool.

"You could have stepped in." He muttered, almost too quietly for Arthur to hear, but the Headmaster's son _did _hear it, and it was all he could do not to hang his head in shame.

He did not need to feel shame because of some new kid who was meant to be serving him. But still...

"I know." Arthur said, quietly. Merlin's shoulders stiffened for a moment, surprised at Arthur's admittance, and then he relaxed once more, turning to head for the door.

"It doesn't matter," he said, with a sigh, "it's no worse than when you make me carry your target."

"What are you talking about?" Arthur snapped, suddenly irritable after Merlin had made him feel bad. Merlin frowned,

"It hurts just as much to lug that thing round for an hour to have those guys beat me up." he stated. Arthur stared. He had guessed that the target couldn't be comfortable, but he hadn't thought it to be too painful.

"I... well... let's just get you to Gaius, yeah?" Arthur suggested, a little lamely, stepping forwards so that he was by Merlin's side. Merlin shrugged, and then let out a short gasp of pain. Arthur's hand automatically shot forwards, placing itself awkwardly against Merlin's back, but Merlin just shook it off, irritably.

"I said I'm fine, Arthur."

* * *

><p>It was like Merlin's first day, when Gaius had him sit on the bed while he applied a paste to Merlin's injuries, all over again but, this time, Arthur stood by, watching.<p>

At first, Merlin had been tempted to tell the other boy to get out and leave him alone, but then he realised that he wanted Arthur to see what he'd been through. What he'd been through _because _of Arthur.

Gaius tutted as he peeled Merlin's shirt from his back. The skin underneath, which should have been pale, was mottled by bruises, some from where the lads had kicked him, and some in the obvious shape of straps, where the target had dug into his shoulders.

Arthur paled visibly when he saw those particular bruises.

"Merlin, I didn't realise." He said, quietly. Merlin glared up at him.

"Some mentor you turned out to be." He said, unable to keep the spite out of his voice. Gaius cuffed him lightly round the head, reprimanding him with a soft,

"Merlin!" but Arthur shook his head,

"No, Merlin's right." He flushed red as he said it: it was the first time that words like that had passed his lips. Words that admitted he was in the wrong. Merlin looked at him, curiously, and Arthur took a deep breath, before sitting down beside the dark haired boy.

"Merlin," he said, seriously, looking into Merlin's eyes, "I promise not to let anything like what occurred today happen again." Merlin's eyes watered, stupidly, and he tried to convince himself that it was the pounding bruises on his ribs which brought them, not the knowledge that Arthur _cared_. Arthur would stand by him.

Merlin managed a stiff nod. Arthur let out a sigh of relief and then got to his feet. He stood there, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet, for a moment, and then muttered something about seeing Merlin at breakfast, and darted from the room.

* * *

><p>Arthur had seen bruises before, many of them, but he was not so experienced that he could recognise the difference between a fresh one, and one that had been there more than a few days. Gaius, however, could. He frowned down at Merlin, once Arthur had left, gently prodding at his multiple injuries.<p>

"Merlin," he said, "some of these bruises are days old. And I don't mean the ones from target practice." He leant forward, studying a particularly gruesome one, splattered over his lower spine, colouring the skin an ugly blue. Merlin bit his lip.

"My magic... it starts to heal them. Makes them look older than they are." He said. It was partly true: his magic did allow him to heal faster than normal people, but the bruise Gaius was looking at had indeed been inflicted two days earlier. Today had not been Merlin's first run in with Arthur's old friends.

Not that Merlin would ever tell Arthur: he didn't want the boy who could one day change the laws of England (although he still had no idea how this would come to be) to get expelled or injured because he got into a fight on Merlin's behalf. Knowing that he had Arthur's loyalty was enough: he had no wish to put it to the test.

He just hoped that the guys would get bored and leave him alone, before Arthur noticed something was up.

* * *

><p>The next morning, Merlin made his own way to the dining hall, and found Arthur waiting for him at one of the tables, a space saved beside him, where Merlin sat.<p>

"Good morning," Merlin said, brightly. His tone told Arthur he was forgiven, and nothing more needed to be said about the incident the night before. Arthur grunted something, that might have been about 'mornings never being good', but Merlin just smiled and stood back up to get Arthur's breakfast: Arthur was always less grumpy after he had eaten.

"Hey, Merlin," Arthur suddenly called, perking up, "it's Saturday!"

"I know," Merlin said, his lips twitching. Arthur rolled his eyes,

"So, aren't you forgetting something?" Merlin stared at Arthur, trying to remember what he could have forgotten.

"Post, Merlin!" Arthur sighed, exasperated, "my paper comes today!"

"Oh, right, yeah!" Merlin said, suddenly remembering: Arthur received a newspaper every Saturday.

Post was left in a basket by the teacher's table, and you had to rifle through it to find your mail. If you weren't well liked by the other students, then you could be sure you would never receive a letter: it wasn't that you weren't sent any, just that a boy would have got to it before you, read it and then burnt it, often not before sending back a reply which would surely get you in trouble.

Of course, no one dared touch Arthur's post, and Merlin located his paper with ease.

He swung cheerfully back to Arthur's side, and threw the paper down in front of him, settling down to peer over his shoulder and and read it: what was happening the world outside Camelot's felt very important to Merlin as, these days, it was filled with news about sorcerers. It was always about the bad things though, how evil they were. Merlin knew it was mostly nonsense, and that the news was censored King Ethan, but he still liked to read it, so he knew what to be wary of.

Arthur unfolded the paper, and laid it flat against the table, so that the headline blared up at them both:

_The Purge Begins: King Ethan orders first sorcerer to be burnt at the stake_

Merlin stared, his mouth suddenly very dry. He felt sick.

He had known it was coming. Everyone had: it had been building in the air for months... _years,_ even. It was surprising that King Ethan hadn't already had a sorcerer burnt. It was common knowledge that he had them drowned and hung, but he tried to do it in secret, hushed up because, until now, the execution of sorcerers had been illegal.

It appeared that Ethan had finally changed that particular law.

Merlin's eyes widened as they travelled down the article. It spoke about how sorcerers were nothing but dangerous, and were only out to harm and destroy. If anyone knew of anyone practicing sorcery, they should report to the police, or even to the king himself. People convicted of sorcery would not be put on trial. It was too risky: they could escape and cause trouble.

No. They would simply be executed, the next morning.

Arthur didn't notice the way Merlin had tensed beside him, at first, even though Merlin read the article to him (Merlin read Arthur all of his mail, saying that he _liked _doing it, to spare Arthur the humiliation of admitting he found it hard to read).

"So," he said, once Merlin had finished, "it's started. The Great Purge, I've heard people calling it, and there's only been one execution! Well, sorcery _is _evil. Everyone knows it: my father always says it... Merlin. Merlin? Are you alright?" Arthur looked at Merlin, a small crease appearing between his eyes. Merlin was trembling. Arthur assumed it was with fear, at the mention of sorcery. "don't worry," he said, "it's not like anyone _here _is a sorcerer..."

"Would you turn them in?" the words slipped past Merlin's lips before he could stop them, "if they had sorcery... would you hand them over?"

Arthur looked at Merlin's pale face and, for a moment, confusion and uncertainty flickered in his eyes. Then it vanished and he said,

"Of course. It is the law."

Merlin took a deep, shaky breath.

"Right." He said, trying to keep his fear under control, "right. The law. Yeah."

* * *

><p><em>So... what dya think?<em>

_I know you guys wanted Arthur to jump in at the beginning and save Merlin, but I hope he made up for it with his apology... I still think he's coming to terms with the idea of friendship :)_

_Hopefully I'll be bringing in some more familiar characters next chappie... see you Wednesday :D_


	9. Chapter 8

_Hey guys :D I just saw Harry Potter again, so I've been flailing around my bedroom like 'how can this still hurt so much?' But I'm ok now :D I just KNOW i had something else to flail about to you guys but, for the life of me, I cannot remember :(_

_I guess I just hope you like this chapter._

_Not a load of Arty, but lotso Gwaine to make up for it :D_

_Please review :)_

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><p><strong>Chapter 8<strong>

The whole school spent the day pouring over newspapers, muttering and whispering. Everyone seemed to be looking at their classmates differently, sizing them up, as if they were wondering 'are you a sorcerer?' Merlin was feeling increasingly paranoid, jumping when anyone addressed him, flinching when Arthur reached out to grab his arm.

His nervous state was not remedied in the slightest, when Uther made his announcement at supper:

"As you all probably know," he said, glaring down at the mass of students, "today, King Ethan Pangdrone introduced a new law, clearly stating that anyone convicted of using sorcery, or aiding a sorcerer, _will be executed_," his eyes swept over them all, "and let me tell you, that this law has no restrictions on age, sex or ability. If _anyone _in this room is caught using magic, the sentence will be final. I will have no choice but to hand that person over to the authorities." Merlin swallowed, and Arthur frowned over at him noting, with some concern, Merlin's pale skin and the beads of sweat forming on his brow. Uther continued, "but, of course, this law has been put in place to protect the people. All sorcerers are dangerous, and they aim only to harm others. They are evil."

Merlin had thought that he would be able to control himself; get through this without drawing any attention to himself but, at Uther's last sentence, he couldn't keep the disbelieving snort in his chest. The noise was unbelievably loud, and Merlin blushed furiously as every head turned to face him. Uther froze where he stood, his eyes roving, till they finally rested on Merlin's face. Merlin couldn't look away, even though he could feel Arthur nudging him, desperately trying to communicate with the _idiot _and make him lower his head or _something_. To make him show some respect to the headmaster, and perhaps avoid punishment.

Uther was puzzled and slightly intrigued by the boys insolence, and even more so by his son's obvious attempts to try and force the lad to behave. The silence in the hall was painful upon all their ears, before Uther walked around the high table, and down towards the boy, who was suddenly fidgeting, anxiously.

"Is there something funny?" he asked, trying not to smile as the boy squirmed under the headmaster's gaze.

"No, of course not," Arthur piped up, shooting Merlin an angry look, "Merlin's just... just catching a cold and-"

"Be silent, Arthur," Uther hissed, and Arthur immediately fell silent, a faint flush creeping up his neck as some of the boys smirked at him. What was Arthur Pendragon doing, standing up for the new boy?

On another day, Uther might have let the incident slide, but today he was feeling particularly angry at the world and Merlin had given him a convenient way to get the rage out of his system. He reached forward and seized one of the boy's overlarge ears, protruding beneath his dark curls, and proceeded to drag him to the centre of the hall. Merlin yelped in pain and protest, his hand scrabbling uselessly at Uther's hard fist, while some of the boys couldn't contain their sniggers. Arthur simply watched, his jaw clenched.

When they finally reached the very middle of the hall, Uther seized a little stall from under one of the dining tables. He set it down and then lifted Merlin onto it, as though the young man weighed no more than a small child (which, Arthur conceded, noting Merlin's skinny frame, was probably the case). Still, the humiliation was unnecessary and, by this point, Merlin's face was a flaming red. His neck probably was too, but it was hidden by that ridiculous scarf he wore.

The stool was not wide enough for Merlin to place both of his feet on, so he stood on one foot, wobbling precariously. One of the boys, somewhere near the back, actually laughed out loud, the sound bouncing off the walls, till it was silenced by a "shush!" from his friend. Before Merlin looked down at the floor from shame, he spotted three faces: Lancelot stood nearer the front and his expression held a mixture of pity for Merlin, and anger at Uther. Gwaine stood slightly further back, and Merlin almost smiled when he was given a small congratulatory nod. Arthur hadn't moved from the spot Merlin had left him at, and he was glaring at Merlin, furiously, with an expression which read: _I'll deal with you later_. Merlin had to seriously strain from not rolling his eyes.

If it hadn't been from the underlying look of worry on Arthur's face, Merlin might not have been able to stop himself.

"You will remain here till tomorrow morning," Uther said, loudly, "no one is allowed to talk to or help this boy. Is that understood?" he looked about the hall, and there was the resounding answer of

"Yes, Sir."

"Good. Now, I presume I may continue with my announcement without interruption," here he reached out and prodded Merlin, who flailed wildly desperately trying to regain his balance.

Arthur found himself crossing his fingers, _come on, Merlin_, he thought, desperately, _don't fall. You'll be fine, Merlin_.

"This building," Uther gestured around him, "wasn't always a school. It was once the house of noblemen, and has dungeons beneath the ground. The king has requested that such buildings be put to use in these difficult times. So it will be that any sorcerers who are captured in the area or nearby will be brought here to await their trial. You are not permitted to so much as look at these _creatures_. To do so will result in your immediate expulsion, if you are not first convicted of aiding the sorcerer." There was a quiet murmur, rippling through the hall, as the boys muttered to each other at this news. Uther waited for silence to fall once more, and then said, "you are dismissed. Everyone except _you_." Uther gave Merlin another poke, as the students began to file out of the hall and off to bed. Arthur cast Merlin one last, despairing glance, before hurrying off with everyone else.

* * *

><p>Minutes turned painfully slowly into hours, and Merlin trembled, sweat pooling on his brow and sliding down his face. The teachers had left about half an hour ago, and he was left alone in the would-be-darkness, broken by one last stuttering torch, left lit for his benefit. He <em>could <em>use magic to make the stool bigger or something, but he wasn't going to do magic unless he absolutely had to, and he wasn't sure that standing, one legged, on a stool was such a desperate situation. It wasn't _that _bad. He could get through this.

Except, when the school bells chimed two in the morning, Merlin wasn't sure he could. He was constantly hopping from foot to foot, or else trying to fit them both, standing on tip toes. It wasn't long before he felt the tears beginning to gather behind his eyes, but he fought them furiously. He wouldn't cry. He was just so tired...

Suddenly, there was a noise behind him, of the doors to the hall opening. Merlin jumped in shock, literally making his foot lift from the stool, and his arms span like windmills as he tried to keep his balance.

"Sorry," a voice called, and there were hurried footsteps, making their way over to him.

"Arthur?" Merlin asked, and then immediately felt stupid, because the voice was nothing like Arthur's. It even had a different accent.

"Sorry," the voice said again, but this time the tone was lighter, and there was actually a chuckle, "you've got the next best." And the owner of the voice finally stepped into view.

Merlin stared for a moment, slightly confused, till Gwaine laughed and said,

"What? I brought food." And he held up a bag, bulging with what looked like several rolls of bread. Merlin's mouth watered, even though he had dinner just like everyone else: standing like this for hours did take its toll.

"Where did you get it?" Merlin asked, not wanting to sound suspicious but unable to help it. Gwaine flashed him another charming smile and said,

"The less you know, the better." And Merlin laughed this time, already beginning to feel better, "how come you're still standing there?" Gwaine asked after a moment. Merlin stopped laughing and frowned,

"Uther said I had to stand here." He said. Gwaine looked puzzled for a second and then snorted, his hand flying to his mouth,

"Uther? _Uther? _You have got to be kidding me! That's his name?" Gwaine was now doubled over, snorting and choking, "no way!" Merlin giggled, and soon they were both having fits of laughter, gasping and wheezing.

"How did you not know?" Merlin asked, once he managed to get control of himself. Gwaine shrugged, straightening up and wiping his eyes.

"I doubt many people do... we don't all have the pleasure of Arthur Pendragon mentoring us."

"Yeah, I guess." Merlin said, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"So, you going to get down from there or eat something, or what?" Gwaine asked.

"I... I don't think I can," Merlin said, truthfully. After standing still for so long, he wasn't sure his legs would obey him.

"I know what you mean, mate," Gwaine nodded, "I've been where you are enough times... here, let me help." And he took hold of Merlin's arms and helped lower him to the floor.

"Ow, cramp," Merlin moaned, stretching out his legs, painfully. Gwaine grinned.

"I'm proud of you... Merlin, right?"

"Yeah," Merlin gasped, as the cramp dissolved, and took Gwaine's offered hand.

"I'm Gwaine," he said, "although I guess you already know that. Now, sit down on the blasted stool and let's eat something, _please_."

So Merlin sat, still watching Gwaine curiously as he munched on the bread.

"Why are you helping me?" he asked. Gwaine shrugged,

"You seem nice. I reckon we'll get on, you and me, Merlin. Despite that prat you have to hang around with." Merlin chuckled,

"Yeah, he is a bit of a prat. Alright when you get to know him though."

"If you say so." Gwaine grinned through a mouthful of bread.

* * *

><p>When the bells chimed three, Merlin sighed and got to his feet,<p>

"You better go," he said, "you're pushing your luck coming down here in the first place... I heard Uther say he was going to expel you if you got in any more trouble."

"If I really cared, I wouldn't have come, mate," Gwaine said, "well, actually, I like you so maybe I would've. But what the hell? I've only got a year left anyway, and then I'm gone. I wasn't made to be holed up in a place like this. My life waits for me, out there!" he gestured grandly towards the high windows, and Merlin smiled at his new friend, a little sadly. He hoped that Gwaine wouldn't be expelled, even if he wanted to be, "but, I guess you're right. I should go," and Gwaine clapped Merlin on the shoulder, "or I'll fall asleep on you. You might as well grab a few hours shut eye, though..."

"Can't risk it," Merlin sighed, clambering back up onto the stool, "wouldn't want to over sleep." Gwaine hesitated, and then pulled Merlin back down, "I'll hang around then," he said, "I'm not as tired as you... and I don't have a prat to run around after tomorrow. I'll wake you before people start coming for breakfast."

"No... you don't have to-"

"I _want _to, Merlin." Gwaine insisted. Merlin paused, for a second, and then hopped back down.

"Thank you." He said, giving Gwaine a warm, wide smile.

"No problem," Gwaine replied, a little gruffly. It was hard not to feel pleased when Merlin smiled at you like that. Funny kid.

Merlin curled up on the floor, while Gwaine took his seat on the stool. Within minutes, Merlin was snoring, softly.

* * *

><p><em>Aw :) It might sound odd, but I love imagining Merlin sleeping... omg that does sound really wierd.<em>

_What the hell. There's a lot of wierdness in this fandom._

_You like Gwaine? I hope he seems in character, even though he is a lot younger than in the show, and in quite a different setting :)_

_Sorry about Arty, or lack of :s _

_Oh, and I'm going to Oxford at the weekend, so not as much time to write, but hopefully chapter 9 should be up by wednesday :D_


	10. Chapter 9

_Holla! Well, I am unsure whether to feel bad or not because, in England (where I happen to be) it has been Thursday for (according to my computer) 38 minutes, which means I'm 38 minutes late. WELL, I'm just hoping that it's still Wednesday for most of you guys :D _

_Oh, and I'm very much glad none of you seemed to find my love of sleeping!merlin weird :D There's some more of that in this chappie... and sleep Arthur too, which is nice :)_

_And CeeRat: I'm glad you have faith in my abilities. Thou shalt not be disappointed._

_(when happy... and a bit tired... spout old English)_

_Please let me know if you spot any glaring mistakes- it is late and I didn't do a very thorough read through :s sorry! please review!_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 9<strong>

Gwaine gently prodded Merlin awake.

"Come on, mate, get up," he murmured, and Merlin yawned, sleepily, pressing his fists into his eyes.

"What?" the younger boy mumbled.

"I guess we've got about fifteen minutes before the maids come to prepare the hall for breakfast," Gwaine said, thoughtfully, "and then the teachers'll arrive... it's Sunday, so breakfast isn't till nine thirty. It's quarter to now... yeah. About fifteen minutes, I'd say." At last, Gwaine's words seemed to hit home, and Merlin scrambled to his feet, in a flurry of flying limbs.

"Oh God," he gasped, "you have to go, quick! Before they get here. I'm so sorry, you couldn't sleep all night, I-"

"Calm down," Gwaine chuckled, "I'm fine!" Merlin frowned and looked closely at his friend: he looked exhausted, but that was to be expected, "listen Merlin, get up on the stool. _Look tired_. Actually, no, look more than tired. Look dead on your feet, Merlin, do you understand?" Merlin nodded, a little blearily, and then climbed onto the stool: in truth, it wasn't at all hard to look tired. He could barely keep his eyes open, even if he had got more sleep than Gwaine.

Gwaine nodded his approval at Merlin's slightly swaying form, but Merlin didn't see it.

"Good," Gwaine said, "anyway, I need to go now. I guess it's a little hypocritical for me to say it but... try to keep out of trouble, will you?" Merlin smiled, his eyes drooping slightly, and Gwaine had to hold back his laughter, as he ran from the hall.

* * *

><p>Merlin hardly registered the maids bustling about, laying the tables and pulling open the shutters, till he felt a hand brush gently against his arm. Merlin's eyes flew open and he almost toppled from the stool.<p>

"Sorry," the serving girl gasped, "I just... you looked like you might fall." Merlin offered her a reassuring smile, although he feared it was a little shaky. The girl giggled.

"I'm Merlin," Merlin said, proud when he didn't slur. He held out his hand, and the maid reached up to shake it,

"Guinevere," she said, "but my friends call me Gwen."

"Oh," Merlin said, uncertainly, "my friends call me... Merlin." Gwen frowned, but laughter danced behind her brown eyes. She was very pretty, Merlin thought. It was a comfortable thought, just because it was true: she had caramel skin and thick, curly black hair which could hardly be contained, and which escaped her bun, tumbling around her shoulders. Her dress was lavender, he noticed, while the other maids wore white.

"You're dressed different." Merlin informed her. Gwen looked down at her own dress,

"Observant," Gwen said, and Merlin grinned. She smiled as she continued, "It's because I don't just work here. I'm Morgana's maid."

"Morgana? Arthur's sister?"

"Yes. But she doesn't really need me during term times, so sometimes I come and work here, and go back to her during the holidays. I miss her quite a lot though..."

"I don't think I'd miss Arthur... much." Merlin said, and Gwen gave him a sympathetic look,

"Oh," she exclaimed, "he's your mentor, isn't he? I heard about that."

"Yes, he is." Merlin sighed although, truthfully, he didn't think it was so bad. He liked Arthur. Sort of.

"I suppose it's his fault you're up there?" Gwen said, looking at the stool. Merlin opened his mouth to reply, when the doors to the hall opened, and the teachers began to enter. Gwen's eyes widened, and she whispered, "I better go, all the other maids have gone!" Merlin glanced around and saw she was right.

"Goodbye, Gwen," Merlin called after her, quietly. She smiled at him, all dimples, and then hurried away.

Merlin felt as though he had a happy glow inside him: sure, it hadn't been _pleasant_, what with Uther humiliating him in front of the whole school, but the headmaster had unintentionally done him a favour, and given him two new friends, literally over night.

* * *

><p>When the headmaster entered, he didn't so much as glance at Merlin, merely strode straight past, and placed himself at the centre of the teacher's table, not yet sitting down. Merlin sighed, and waited. After a few minutes, he heard the distant rumble of a thousand students, coming downstairs for breakfast.<p>

They all came pouring in, and Merlin could feel their eyes on him, drinking in his no doubt pathetic form. He caught Gwaine's eye, and they shared a fleeting grin. When he spotted Arthur, his mentor gave him nothing but a hard stare, and then stood behind a space at a bench, just like everyone else. Then they all waited, their eyes on the headmaster. He glared at them all, for a moment, and then finally lowered himself into his chair. The moment he was seated, the students clambered onto the benches and noise broke out.

Arthur did not sit, and walked past Merlin, ignoring him as his father had, storming up to the teacher's table. Merlin watched as he exchanged a few words with his father. Watched as Uther lowered his head, in a curt nod. Then Arthur turned on his heels, this time marching towards Merlin, his eyes blazing with something that looked like triumph.

"You can get down," he said, gruffly. Merlin beamed,

"Thank you," he said, clambering to the floor. He wobbled slightly, and Arthur took a firm hold of his arm.

"Come on," he said, sounding exasperated, "you need to eat something. And then you need to go to bed. After that I'll lecture you about how to behave before my father."

"Ok," Merlin said, cheerfully. Arthur smacked him lightly round the head,

"Stop sounding so happy," he instructed. Merlin grumbled as he sat down at a table, and Arthur slid beside him.

"But I am happy," he said, reaching forwards and beginning to pile his plate with eggs, bacon and toast. For once, Arthur did not ask Merlin to fetch his breakfast for him, and did it himself.

"How can you be happy?" Arthur was genuinely confused, "you have been standing, _one legged_, on a stool the entire night!" Merlin shrugged.

"I'm off now, aren't I?" I said, digging in to his breakfast with vigour.

* * *

><p>"I'm not tired," Merlin complained, trying to drag his arm from Arthur's grip, but Arthur wouldn't let go.<p>

"Don't. Lie." He said, forcefully, and through gritted teeth: Merlin was a lot harder to pull along than he looked.

"I'm not," Merlin tried not to whine, but he was afraid that's how it came out. Fortunately, Arthur was too preoccupied to smirk.

Merlin was, in fact, extremely tired, but he resented being manhandled. Or he thought he did... no, he thought he _ought _to resent it, and so his overworked body went to the extreme, thinking that this was what he wanted, trying to wrench itself from Arthur's hold.

It was a bit ridiculous, Merlin finally concluded.

Arthur thought so too.

"For God's sake!" he roared, finally giving up and letting go. Merlin toppled backwards onto the floor.

"Ow," he said, as he got back to his feet: he had grazed his hands when he fell. Arthur rolled his eyes,

"Don't be such a girl, and _go to bed_." He ordered. Merlin sighed.

"Fine." He said, and then stalked past his mentor. Arthur let him get to the end of the end of the corridor, before calling out in amusement,

"Wrong way, Merlin." We watched, his lips twitching, as Merlin halted, turned and then came back the other way, refusing to look at Arthur, "you really are useless, aren't you _Mer_lin," Arthur commented.

"Go away." Merlin said, when Arthur began following.

"No." Arthur said, and his tone was so unexpectedly stern and resolute, that Merlin couldn't find the heart to argue.

Arthur kept close to Merlin till he saw the boy safely tucked up in bed. He told himself that he only cared for Merlin's health because he needed someone to polish his boots and clean his dorm, not because he was worried sick by Merlin's gaunt expression, the black bags beneath his eyes...

"You are to stay here and sleep _all day_," he told Merlin, "if I see you wandering about the school, or I hear from anyone that you have left this room, I will drag you back, lock you in and stand guard outside the door." Merlin smiled sweetly up at him,

"It's so nice that you'd go to all that trouble, Arthur. You're so kind." Merlin found that his tone was not quite as mocking as he would have liked, but Arthur seemed to get the picture because, when Merlin propped himself up on his elbows to say something else, Arthur put his hand over his face and pushed him roughly back down. Merlin 'hurrumphed', as he fell against his pillows.

"Tell me that you'll stay here till I come and get you for dinner." Arthur said.

"What about lunch?"

"I'll bring you lunch," Arthur promised, unable to stop the fleeting, affectionate smile flashing across his face.

"All right then," Merlin said, after a moment's deliberation, and then, before Arthur could say another word, Merlin was snoring.

During the next few days that followed this incident, Arthur wouldn't let Merlin out of his sight, determined to keep the idiot out of trouble, at least for the week. They annoyed each other constantly, and yet when they were parted, each would become subdued and bored. It became a common sight, therefore, to see them around the school together, bickering or laughing or just talking.

* * *

><p>When it reached November, they had their first snow of the year. It coated the entire school, smothering the grounds in a soft white blanket. Merlin was hanging out of his window in the physician's chambers, his neck extended and his face lifted towards the sky, letting the snow fall onto his lips.<p>

"Merlin, what are you doing?" Gaius had come into the room. Merlin quickly slid back inside, and grinned at the old man.

"Snow," was his happy explanation. He bounded across the room, past Gaius, and darted through the door, calling over his shoulder, "I'm going to get Arthur!"

"Merlin!" Gaius yelled after him, "don't go outside; you'll catch your death!" but Merlin was too far away to hear.

Merlin swung into Arthur's dorm, and some of the other boys looked up and greeted him. After a few months in Merlin's company, most of them had gotten used to him. Even enjoyed him being around. There was something about Merlin that simply allowed him to make friends, even in an environment such as Camelot's. But, not everyone could forgive him for arriving out of nowhere and befriending Arthur, so Valiant, one of Arthur's former cronies, didn't even look up.

"Arthur, wake up, come _on_," Merlin dashed to where Arthur lay. He grunted, and twisted beneath his blankets to glare up at Merlin.

"What?" he asked, his voice scratchy.

"Snow, Arthur, come on, come on!"

"It's like you've never seen it before." Arthur grumbled, but Merlin's excitement was infective and he couldn't help giving a begrudging smile as he watched Merlin sprint about the dorm, rifling through Arthur's trunk to find his winter things: a dark red scarf, hat and gloves.

"Hey, that's mine!" Arthur complained, swinging out of bed, as Merlin pulled the hat over his ridiculously large ears. He didn't have the heart to take it back, however, when Merlin grinned up at him from underneath the soft cotton. But, he did snatch the gloves and scarf before Merlin could wear those too,

"You don't need a scarf, with that thing round your neck anyway," Arthur pointed out, wondering why he even felt the need to justify his decision.

There was an hour before school started, but Merlin didn't go straight outside. First he woke Gwaine, Gwen and, after a moment's thought, Lancelot. Gwen had actually already been awake, sleepy and cold, tottering around carrying laundry. Merlin had gently relieved her of the load, and ordered her to put something warm on, because they were about to have the most epic snowball fight Camelot's had ever seen.

Lancelot had taken some persuading, but he had finally allowed himself to be tugged along. Merlin had a few sharp words with Arthur beforehand, telling him not to be such a child: Lancelot was _lovely_. Arthur had scowled and hit Merlin round the head, telling him that he was not allowed to order his mentor around, but had agreed.

The events of a few months before had almost faded from their memories: no one had been delivered to Camelot's because they had magic, even though Uther had said the dungeons were going to be used. School had carried on as it always had.

Until today.

The snow flew into their faces, smacking their cheeks red, filling their mouths, and they laughed the whole time, trying to keep as quiet as possible, so no one would catch them: they were round the back of the school, near to where the lake was. It glistened, chunks of ice swimming on its surface.

Merlin had just received a handful of snow from Arthur, shoved down the back of his shirt. He gasped and squirmed, much to Arthur's amusement but then, just as Merlin reached down to grab some snow and retaliate, he spotted something, across the water. He froze, straightening up slowly and squinted. Arthur noticed how Merlin had stopped moving, and moved to stand beside him.

"What is it?" he asked. Merlin only pointed.

Even from such a distance, it was easy to recognise it as a cage. Inside, lay a limp figure. A large man had his hands on the bars. Arthur placed a hand on Merlin's shoulder,

"Bounty hunters," he said, softly, "it looks like it's started."

* * *

><p><em>When I was writing that last bit, I didn't think I could really describe the snowball fight as 'epic' because there was like, what, 5 of them? But then I was like, those five consist of Lancelot, Gwen, Gwaine, Merlin and Arthur: of <em>course _it would be epic!_

_Anyway, I hope you didn't mind how it skipped to November like that but, if every chapter was just a day later or something, this fic would be neverending :s _

_I hope you liked it! Hopefully I should be seeing you Wednesday :D_


	11. Chapter 10

_WOW, it's been a while, hasn't it? I'm sorry! Really I am! I don't think I told people reading this fic that updates might be a bit scant for a while, but I hope this chapter will be worth the wait, if only just._

_Thank you so much for all the wonderful reviews- sorry if I didn't get to reply to all of them. I very much appreciated every word :)_

_I'm going away tomorrow, btw, so again it might be some time before chapter 11. I hope this chapter will be enough to keep you going till then._

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><p><strong>Chapter 10<strong>

It wasn't like Merlin didn't try to help, because he did. He had pleaded and argued and had done everything short of actually hitting Arthur in his frustration, but his mentor refused, _point blank,_ to reason with his father.

"_Mer_lin, are you completely stupid? Don't you understand that this is the law? You are asking me to _change the law_." He spoke slowly and patronisingly. He had pushed Merlin down onto a chair, so he could look down at him (it hadn't worked standing up, as Merlin was several inches taller). The effect was a slightly humiliated Merlin, and a smug Arthur.

"I know it's the law," Merlin shot back up at him, "but it inhumane. They're in cages, Arthur!"

"They're magic!" Arthur thundered, throwing his hands up in the air in his exasperation. How many times would they have to repeat this argument before Merlin realised that this was life? This was how things would be done from now on, "I mean, where have you been living for the past fourteen years, Merlin? In a hole somewhere? I would have thought that even an idiot like you would have noticed,"

"Noticed what?" Merlin cut in, unable to keep quiet, even though he was sure Arthur had been about to tell him.

"Notice that sorcerers are evil. Noticed that their practices have been frowned upon ever since King Ethan came into power. They are out for nothing but their own personal gain. Tell me you understand that, Merlin. Promise me that you won't go trying to help anyone who is put in the prisons here." He glared down and Merlin, hands on hips, but Merlin could tell that Arthur was genuinely worried Merlin might do something stupid.

"I don't think King Ethan is right. I don't think that all sorcerers are evil," Merlin said carefully. He was rewarded with a slap round the face. It was more painful than many of the other blows Arthur had delivered before, and Merlin's hand flew to the place he had been hit, his eyes wide and wounded.

"That is treason, Merlin," Arthur's voice was cold and steady, and he tried not to be affected by Merlin's hurt expression, but he knew he had hit perhaps a little harder than necessary, and couldn't stall the guilt beginning to creep up on him.

"It's not fair." Merlin replied, his hand falling back onto his lap, but the side of his face was pink from where he had been struck. Arthur swallowed, wanting and meaning to apologise, but the words got stuck in his throat. Instead he said,

"I just don't want you to get in anymore trouble. Do you understand me?" Merlin looked down at his feet. Inside his head, a battle was commencing.

Innocent people were being slaughtered at this very moment, and he could easily be one of them.

Arthur had hit him.

Merlin wanted to help the ones being kept beneath the school. He could do it, he could get them out.

Arthur had hit him.

Arthur was trying to make him see 'sense'. Arthur cared about him.

Well, Arthur sure had a funny way of showing it.

"Yes." Merlin finally muttered. He heard Arthur let out a sigh of relief.

"Good." He said. Then there was an awkward silence. It stretched on for about a minute, before Merlin decided he was probably allowed to get up and leave now. He did so, not so much as glancing at Arthur's face, walking past him, and heading for his own little room.

* * *

><p>That had been at lunch time. For the rest of the day, Merlin only spoke to Arthur when whispering instructions that had been written on the blackboard, which Arthur couldn't quite read. Merlin knew that Arthur half resented being read to, but he didn't complain. It made Merlin feel better to know that Arthur needed him, no matter how upset that made his mentor.<p>

Arthur didn't speak to Merlin at all, but it was Thursday and that was the day Arthur talked least anyway. They had art on Thursday, and English. In art, Arthur shone, much like he did at sports. He sat, poised before the canvas, paint brush in hand, focused and silent. Merlin usually hashed out a painting which looked more like he'd done it with his feet than a brush, while Arthur produced things that were nothing short of masterpieces.

Merlin, more often than not, would give up on his own work to sit back and watch Arthur. During art was one of the few times Arthur looked truly at home. Like he belonged on a stool behind an easel. The only other place he looked so confident was when he was fencing in the grounds.

Arthur was silent in English for a completely different reason. He pursed his lips like he was scared of what might come out of them, his eyes constantly flicking up to Professor Carlton's, his hands clenched around his pencil. Merlin usually helped as best as he could, muttering correct spellings and reaching over to flick in a few well mean commas, but not today.

All in all, both Merlin and Arthur felt very glad when dinner ended and they could hurry off to their own separate rooms, without having to make any excuses.

* * *

><p>Merlin fell face down onto his bed, feeling completely miserable. It might be a bit far to say that today had been the worst in his life, but it was coming pretty close. Gaius might have said goodnight, but Merlin couldn't be sure. He wasn't really paying attention.<p>

Once the room was finally thrown into darkness, the sun sinking down behind the lake and forest, Merlin got to his feet and padded across the room.

It didn't take him as long to reach the Great Dragon's cave as last time, as the memory of his last visit was still clearly imprinted behind his eyes, and he could remember the exact route he took to get there. Under the rock and down those many, many stairs...

"Hello," he called, his breath fogging out in front of him, and a burning branch in his hand. He raised it so that the light illuminated the ceiling, squinting upwards.

"Hello, young warlock," the Great Dragon grinned toothily down at him, swinging slightly in his chains.

"Aren't you cold?" Merlin asked, distracted (there was a naked orange man above his head, after all, and it was freezing)

"A little. Dragons are good at keeping warm."

"Oh. Right..."

"I'm guessing you didn't come down here to enquire after my health, Merlin, although I do not doubt you came to see me for some other, equally admirable reason." Merlin hesitated, suddenly intimidated by the magical being. Last time he was here, he had been informed of his destiny (the thought still sounded ridiculous) and he couldn't help but fear what the Great Dragon might tell him. What he might know.

"Arthur hates me," he finally said, in a rush, his voice low and, even to his own ears, unbearably sad. The Great Dragon chuckled. Incensed, Merlin scowled up at him, "it's not funny," he shouted, "how can I help him when he hates me, or at least, hates my kind? He despises magic. And today... today he hit me, really hard, and it hurt. He was really angry, just because I said I didn't think everyone with magic wanted to kill everything."

"I do not believe that the Pendragon boy hates you," the Great Dragon stated calmly.

"What would you know?" Merlin asked, sulkily.

"Everything." Merlin would have scoffed, had the Great Dragon not sounded quite so sure of himself.

"Then tell me what to do, please. You have to help me make the prat see sense!" He cried.

"What is it you want to do, young warlock?" the Great Dragon asked, and Merlin was startled.

"I came for advise! I don't know what-"

"You don't know what you want? Come now Merlin! What is it that Arthur is trying to stop you from doing?"

"He... he doesn't want me to help the people who are being trapped. But some are innocent. Most are innocent. God, most of them are just like me!"

"No one is just like you, Merlin," the Great Dragon said, and Merlin could see that he was twisting around, trying to get comfortable in his chains, as though about to go to sleep.

"But, what should I do?" Merlin asked, desperately.

"Wait for the snow to melt, and then do exactly what you want. But there will be consequences Merlin. Severe ones."

"I don't understand, why must I wait for the snow to melt?"

"Because that is how much time it will take for Arthur to find it within himself to save you when you need him to."

"What are you talking about? Why will I need saving? You're not making any sense!"

"I am going to sleep now, young warlock. I suggest you get up to the school and do the same."

And just like that, the Great Dragon was snorting in his sleep, leaving Merlin confused and gasping in the cold.

* * *

><p>Arthur lay on top of his covers, staring mournfully at the ceiling. The hand that had slapped Merlin twitched. Arthur wondered how he would ever make it up to the boy, even though it had been for Merlin's own good, really. He couldn't go running around trying to help criminals. He would only get himself into trouble and, for attempting to rescue a sorcerer, he could get himself killed. Arthur tried to imagine it: Merlin, tied to a stake, the fire being lit at his feet. He shuddered, convulsively. No, Arthur had been right. Merlin needed to learn what the limits were.<p>

Still, today had been pretty horrible. Merlin had only spoken to him to help out with work, and it made Arthur realise how much of a difference the boy was making in his life. If Merlin were to stop speaking to him for good, well... Arthur might just die of boredom. And perhaps loneliness.

Speaking of loneliness... Arthur scrambled under his covers as the biting winds flung themselves against the dormitory windows, thinking of the Christmas holidays which were fast approaching. His father would no doubt be staying at the school to work, and Christmas day would be another quiet affair, with his mother simmering with silent anger at her husband, and his sister the only one to keep him company. He still loved her dearly, but she was changing, becoming more fierce with every passing year, and more beautiful. She talked to him, but often just to deliver some scathing remark. He never commented on this, and tried not to argue back, because he wanted nothing less than to lose her, not after she'd been the only one to stand by him, during those first few, difficult years at Camelot's. To be honest, all his time at Camelot's had been difficult, until Merlin. Clumsy, annoying, ridiculous Merlin, and his stupid big heart.

And then, it hit Arthur how he might just be able to make it up to the boy he almost called friend. He sat upright, barely able to keep the smile from his lips as he realised, not only might Merlin forgive him, but his Christmas holidays would become that much more bearable.

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><p><em>So, some more cryptic Kilgharrah for you there ;) Hope that was interesting enough to keep you waiting for next time. Please please please review!<em>

_Oh, and my goodness! I just saw Bradley James in this program called _Lewis _and I think I squealed myself into oblivion. It was too amazing 3 3 3_


	12. Chapter 11

_Hello! Well, I'm back in England and here's chapter 11 :O_

_By the way, Happy Birthday Angel Coulby! ahhhhhhh._

_Please enjoy and review! _

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><p><strong>Chapter 11<strong>

Merlin rested his elbows on the windowsill in Arthur's dormitory. Outside, the sun blazed cold in the winter sky, and the snow refused to melt unless someone stepped on it, crushing it to grey. Behind him, Arthur was crashing around, trying to find his blazer, cursing and grumbling.

"_Mer_lin!" he griped, "I didn't call you up here to daydream." Merlin yawned and turned to eye his mentor, an amused expression on his face.

"Well, maybe if you actually told me what you _did _call me for, I might be a bit more helpful."

"I doubt it." Arthur muttered, and Merlin rolled his eyes, pushing away from the window and crouching to peer beneath Arthur's bed. The blazer was crumpled against the wall, and Merlin had to go flat on his stomach, stretching, before he managed to grasp it and pull it out. Once he was back in his feet, Merlin dusted it down and held it out for Arthur, who hesitated before taking it and shrugging it on.

"Thanks."

Merlin offered a small smile.

Around them, the other boys were waking up, talking and occasionally laughing. Merlin felt a pang of jealousy. Every morning, Merlin woke up alone and cold in his little room. He didn't mind _that _much, usually, because it meant he had his own space to practice magic, but it made him feel apart. Separated from everyone else.

Of course, it would be much worse when everyone else went home for the Christmas holiday, which were in five days, leaving him behind. It was out of the question for Merlin to return home, where most of the people were aware of Merlin's 'gifts', so soon after the purge had started. So he was to remain at Camelot's. Even Gaius was heading off to spend Christmas day with his brother. You didn't have to go home, but Merlin hadn't heard of anyone else who was staying. He wondered, slightly hysterically, if he would be spending the holidays with just Uther for company.

Arthur watched Merlin, with one eyebrow raised, as the other boy gazed around the dormitory, his face displaying a strange expression. Something like despair. It had been little over a week since Arthur's, erm, _talk _with Merlin, about sorcerers and, somehow, they had managed to slip back into their old routine. Merlin seemed to have swallowed his anger overnight, and they had continued as though nothing had happened, except whenever Merlin spotted a cage, waiting to be transported over the lake, and once when a young girl had been physically dragged down the corridors of the school, shrieking and crying, her dress in tatters and manacles around her wrists and ankles.

Truth be told, that display had even shaken Arthur a bit, and he had watched her go, white faced. Merlin had looked positively ill, and Arthur wondered whether he ought to get the day off, till the boy turned, and Arthur had fully seen his expression. It was one of pure rage. But then, it had vanished so quickly, Arthur wondered whether he had imagined it.

Now, Arthur shook his head and approached Merlin, clapping a hand down on his shoulder, startling him.

"So, Merlin," he said, trying to sound casual, "what are you doing for Christmas?"

Merlin stared at Arthur, his mouth slightly agape, and wondered whether he had read his mind.

"Um," he said, shrugging off Arthur's hand, and heading towards the door, "dunno," he said. Arthur frowned,

"Are you really so useless?" he asked, exasperated, "how can you not know? We're breaking up in less than a week!"

"Listen, are you coming to breakfast or what?" Merlin inquired, pulling the door open, and gesturing through it. Arthur almost folded his arms and said 'no', wanting to demand that Merlin told him his plans, but the other boys were looking curious and, when Arthur really looked, Merlin deeply uncomfortable. So, with a resigned sigh, he left the room, Merlin following behind.

Arthur slowed till they were walking side by side.

"Come on then," he said, "what time are you getting picked up?"

"Arthur," Merlin's voice was strained, "just leave it, ok?"

"I don't see what your problem is," Arthur threw up his hands.

"I'm not getting picked up, Arthur, for crying out loud!" Merlin snapped.

"Oh. So, how you getting home?" Merlin's eyes shut for a second, wishing that Arthur would use his brain before speaking.

"I'm... I'm not." He said, quietly, and then sighing in relief when they entered the hall, where all the other early risers were making sufficient noise for Merlin to pretend to be distracted, as they searched for a seat. Arthur was staring at Merlin in disbelief when they managed to locate a place to sit.

"_What_?" he asked, flabbergasted, "you can't stay here! Only the people whose family hate them stay here. Just a bunch of loners who-" Arthur stopped talking abruptly when he noticed the look on Merlin's face.

"Don't say that," Merlin's voice was cold, tinged with hurt, "you don't know why they don't go home. God, you don't even know if they have a home to go to. Not everyone's as lucky as you, Arthur."

"I-" Arthur didn't know what to say. Was Merlin telling him that he was homeless? Then how had he paid the fees for coming to Camelot's in the first place? He thought about how Merlin didn't even have a proper uniform, but then remembered something about Gaius taking Merlin in as a favour. That was why Merlin didn't sleep in the dormitory. He still didn't really belong. The thought plucked at something inside Arthur, and he felt both angry and slightly ashamed. "I- I'm sorry," he managed, and Merlin looked shocked, "you're right. I wasn't thinking." Merlin gave a small shrug,

"It's all right," he said, softly, before reaching across the table for a teapot, and pouring its contents, first into Arthur's mug and then his own.

* * *

><p>Arthur sipped his drink pensively, gazing at Merlin in a new light.<p>

"Merlin..." he said, hesitantly.

"What?"

"Why? Er, why aren't you going home for Christmas?" Arthur was taken aback to see Merlin's hands clench around his mug, so tightly he thought it might shatter. "Careful," Arthur gasped, reaching forwards to prise the mug from the boy's grip, horrified to see that Merlin's hands were red and burnt, "idiot." He muttered, as Merlin looked down at his now injured hands.

"Ow." He said, a little belatedly. Arthur rolled his eyes.

"We'll go up to Gaius, once we've eaten." Merlin nodded, absentmindedly, still with that startled rabbit look in his eyes. Arthur wondered whether he ought to press his question, but he was curious, "So? Why can't you go home?" Merlin bit his lip.

"I can't... I don't..." Merlin struggled, trying to think up some kind of plausible excuse, and was horrified to feel pricks at the corners of his eyes. This was ridiculous, he thought, brushing at them, trying not to let Arthur see.

Arthur watched with increasing incredulity, as Merlin stuttered. He looked like he might cry, as he rubbed his eyes and looked away.

"Hey," he said, gently, "don't worry about it. I... I get it. Not everyone can go home. I get it." Even though he really didn't. Merlin gave him a grateful smile, and it was that which gave Arthur the strength to plunge onwards.

"Why don't you come to mine?" he said, and it came out in a bit of a rush, so that Merlin looked confused for a second, not understanding what the other had said. Then his expression cleared.

"What? Really? I mean that would be... yeah. Yeah. If it's no trouble," Merlin was really grinning now, his whole face lit up with hope, with just a tinge of bemusement, as if he was unsure why Arthur would make such an offer.

"It's no trouble," Arthur replied, smiling a little himself, "father's not going to be home, and my mother will be glad of the extra company. And Gwen'll be coming as well, although she won't be around for Christmas day, I think. She usually goes home..." Arthur frowned, realising how he had no idea of Gwen's actions, even though she had been a live in maid for Morgana since both girls were around seven. Arthur had barely thought of her at all, until Merlin had befriended her.

Merlin didn't seem to notice Arthur's voice falter, and was still beaming.

"If you're sure," he said, "that'd be great Arthur, really great." And Arthur was surprised to feel that rare, warm feeling in his chest, which meant he was happy.

* * *

><p>Merlin practically skipped into the sickroom, dancing to Gaius' side and giving the old man a brief hug. Gaius returned the embrace, slightly surprised and his eyebrows steadily rising.<p>

"What's put you in such a good mood?" he asked, standing back to look at his ward properly.

"I'm not staying here for Christmas anymore!" the boy exclaimed, and his smile was so big, his eyes were crinkled and squinting. Gaius hesitated, nervously.

"Merlin..." he said, "you know it's not safe for you to go home right now." Merlin's smile slipped a little.

"Yes, I know, Gaius. Don't worry, I'm not going home." Gaius was upset to hear the sudden bitterness in Merlin's voice.

"Then, where-?"

"Arthur's invited me home with him."

"Merlin! That's great. I knew you would come to like him." Merlin's lips twitched once more, and Gaius wondered if Merlin was incapable of keeping a straight face for more than thirty seconds.

"I didn't," he admitted, "and that might change after spending two weeks in his house..."

"That's practically what the situation is here anyway," Gaius pointed out, and Merlin shrugged.

"It's different though, isn't it? I mean, I'm going to his _house_. I'm going to meet his ma. And his sister, too!" Merlin couldn't keep the note of apprehension out of his voice.

"Don't worry about it Merlin, you'll be fine. Just remember to keep your magic under control. It's bad enough just practicing in your room, but to cast _any _spell within Uther Pendragon's own house, is something like suicide."

"I know, Gaius, believe me," Merlin grimaced.

"Hmm. Well, I hope so, Merlin, for both our sakes. If something happened to you, you can bet Hunith will be out for my blood."

"I'll be careful, Gaius," Merlin promised, and then retreated to his room, to search for his neckerchief, which he had forgotten that morning. It was only when he had retrieved it and tied it around his neck, that he remembered the reason he had come to Gaius in the first place; his burnt hands. Arthur's proposition had wiped it clean from his mind.

It was only later, once the day had ended and Merlin was curled up in his bed, knees tucked under his chin and fingers around his toes in an effort to keep them warm, that he remembered his conversation with the Great dragon:

"_I don't understand, why must I wait for the snow to melt?" Merlin had asked._

"_Because that is how much time it will take for Arthur to find it within himself to save you when you need him to."_

He had known, Merlin realised. How, he had no idea, but if spending Christmas with Arthur would convince him that Merlin might be worth saving, that was fine with him.

* * *

><p>Arthur had pulled on every single pair of socks he owned, and then topped it off by placing his feet on top of his hot water bottle. He was thinking about Merlin. It had been his intention all along, to ask him over for Christmas, but not for the <em>whole <em>holiday, maybe just a few days. But then Merlin had looked so miserable, that Arthur had asked him over to spend even Christmas day itself with them! He thought of Merlin's face when he had realised Arthur was asking him over, and realised that it had definitely been worth it. And spending time with Gwen would be nice too, maybe. Arthur was surprised that his stomach gave a strange little flip, like nothing he had ever felt before, when he thought of Gwen. He frowned up at the ceiling, wondering what on earth such an uncomfortable motion could mean, and then returned to thinking about his idiotic friend. There was nothing uncomfortable about Merlin, and Arthur was thankful for that.

He just wished he could say the same for everyone else he knew.

* * *

><p><em>Aw, poor Arty :( Now, I know it's not Christmas so I don't really want to dwell on the festivities too much, but hopefully I'll be able to make it suitably christmassy without upsetting anyone (I don't know if it's just me, but I find it hard to watch a film or read a book about Christmas, when we haven't even reached autumn yet...)<em>

_See you soon! _


	13. Chapter 12

_Oh, ok... I know, it's been ages, and I'm really sorry! I'm not really sure what happened, everything just suddenly got crazy busy and, sadly, my fanfiction's been a little bit left behind. But I'm catching up with it all now! I'm really grateful to everyone who's stuck with this story, you're all lovely :)_

_So, here at last, chapter 12. I hope this makes up for the long wait... it's a bit longer than usual :)_

_Please enjoy, and review!_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 12<strong>

Merlin clutched tightly onto his bag, allowing Arthur to steer him towards the gate which led out of Camelot's. Gwen was on his other side, observing Merlin with some amusement.

"_Mer_lin, would you care to tell me why the hell you're so jumpy?" Arthur asked, exasperated, as Merlin gave a third startled little noise.

Merlin shot Arthur a cross look, and decided to ignore him. He had more pressing things to worry about, such as getting past the bounty hunters, standing on either side of the gate. Every time one looked at him, his heart gave a terrified jump, like it was trying to claw its way out of his throat, rather than fail later.

Arthur just rolled his eyes at Gwen, who stifled a giggle, and they carried on walking.

"Hey! Merls!" Merlin actually did jump this time, both feet leaving the ground for half a second in shock. Arthur roared with laughter at Merlin's shocked expression, while Gwen looked concerned, and Gwaine bounded over.

"What's so funny?" Gwaine enquired, but Arthur just shook his head, wiping away tears. Merlin turned to Gwaine, looking disgruntled. Why was he so scared? He'd be fine. Besides, he should have known it was Gwaine: nobody else called him 'Merls' for crying out loud!

"Will you stop calling me that?" he asked, but with a smile all the same, "it sounds like a bloody magic chocolate bar."

Arthur's laughter vanished abruptly.

"Don't joke about stuff like that," he hissed, and Merlin opened his mouth to argue, before seeing the expression on Arthur's face. He wasn't actually looking at Merlin, he was staring over his head towards the bounty hunters. Merlin's stomach lurched, and he actually felt sick. Arthur frowned at him, and then took hold of his arm, steering him firmly towards the gate.

"Let's just try and get you out of here, without throwing a tantrum, ok?" he griped, and Merlin realised that Arthur had mistaken his queasy expression for anger (although quite how, Merlin wasn't sure). Merlin didn't even try to pull from Arthur's grip. In fact, as they passed the 'guards' he shrunk closer to the other boy, his eyes lowered to the floor.

Gwaine trotted along beside them, and then patted Merlin on the back.

"See you in a couple weeks then," he said.

"You're definitely coming back?" Merlin grinned at him. Gwaine shrugged,

"Sure," he said, "I haven't finished terrorizing _Uther _just yet!" Merlin laughed while Arthur glared, as Gwaine bounded away.

They were through the gate now, the school behind them, and Arthur let go of Merlin, who rubbed gingerly at where his fingers had pressed into the skin. Arthur rolled his eyes,

"Don't be such a baby, Merlin."

"He's not!" Gwen suddenly spoke up, and Arthur looked at her, surprised. She blushed, and sidled a bit closer to Merlin. Arthur shrugged, looking slightly flustered, and then began peering over the crowd of schoolboys, searching for their ride home.

Merlin gave Gwen a grateful smile, and was about to say something, when someone else approached them.

"Are you off then, Merlin?" Lancelot was holding out his hand, and Merlin was reminded of the day he had arrived at Camelot's.

"Yeah," he shook the hand, "I'll be seeing you when I get back."

"Have a nice Christmas."

"You too," Merlin hesitated, before stepping a little closer, and giving Lancelot a warm hug. The older boy laughed a little, and returned the gesture. "Thanks for everything, Lance." He said, quietly, and Lancelot nodded, solemnly.

Merlin wondered what he would have done if he hadn't thought to come to Lancelot when Arthur's old friends made beating him up a regular activity. Arthur still didn't know, of course, that the time Merlin had been beaten by the boys in the piano room, wasn't a one off event. Lancelot, on the other hand, knew very well what had been going on. All his skills as head boy had taught him to recognise the signs.

"Guinevere," Lancelot turned to Gwen, whose skin darkened in a blush. Merlin grinned; it was so typical that Lancelot would know the names of all the maids, and probably everyone who worked in the school. Lancelot believed in following the rules, but he also believed in equality. That was why he had always wanted to be recommended for service in the army by Uther, but would never ask, for one had to be of noble blood to fight.

"Lancelot," Gwen replied, and Merlin wondered whether Lancelot might take her hand and kiss it. He sufficed with a nod of the head and a murmured, "Merry Christmas" instead.

Arthur hadn't noticed any of this, and was instead pushing through the crowd to where a horse and carriage were waiting.

"Come on!" he called over his shoulder, and Merlin and Gwen hurried after him.

* * *

><p>Merlin's mouth was hanging open as he stared up at the huge, redbrick building. His little, canvas bag hung limply in his hand, and he felt suddenly very small and <em>unworthy<em>. Merlin had never been made to feel unworthy before; he had always considered himself to have as much worth as the next person, whether they saw it or not.

But _this_. Arthur's house was huge and, when covered with a soft dusting of white snow like now, rather beautiful.

"Come on, idiot, don't just stand there," Merlin was sure he heard an undercurrent of smugness in Arthur's voice, as he slapped him on the back, and then jogged up the stairs to the front door. Merlin clenched his hand a little tighter around the strap on his bag, and he thrust his chin out determinedly. Beside him, Gwen chuckled softly.

"You look like you're going into battle," she observed. Merlin shot her a look,

"So did you, on the way." She blushed, and gave him a little shove, as they both remembered the journey over: Merlin squished between Arthur and Gwen, who seemed incapable of looking at one another without going red. Merlin, meanwhile, had chattered happily, ignoring Arthur's continuous mantra of "for God's sake, will you _shut up?_" and leaning across the both of them, to gaze out of the windows.

"It's impressive, isn't it?" Gwen whispered, with a little sigh, as they reached Arthur. Merlin shrugged,

"It's a bit... too much."

"What was that?" Arthur glared at Merlin, who bit his lip before saying,

"I said, I feel like lunch."

"Oh," Arthur looked a little confused for a second, before rolling his eyes, "typical. Always hungry. How you're so skinny is a wonder, really." Merlin opened his mouth to answer back, something about how he'd rather be skinny than fat, like some other people he could mention, when the front door was pulled open, and Merlin's words died in his mouth.

In the doorway was the most beautiful girl Merlin had ever seen. Her hair hung in a thick plait over her shoulder, dark and shining against her pale skin. Sparkling green eyes were narrowed, as she observed the people on the doorstep.

"Morgana," Arthur said, in greeting, his voice almost nervous, as he gazed at her. There was a moment where Morgana didn't move, and then she smiled, pulling her brother into a hug.

"Welcome home," she said, in a soft lilting voice, which shot shivers down Merlin's spine. Once the siblings had broken apart, Morgana moved passed Arthur to embrace Gwen.

Merlin stood back, feeling a little awkward, as the girls laughed happily at being reunited, beaming into each other's hair.

"Who are you then," Morgana asked over Gwen's shoulder.

"This," Arthur jumped in, "is Merlin."

Morgana and Gwen separated, and then Morgana was pulling _him _into her arms, and Merlin was so surprised and pleased that he couldn't speak.

"So _you're _the one who my brother's been mentoring? I couldn't believe it when he told me in his letter. _Arthur_, I thought! How can Arthur mentor anyone?" she laughed, and perhaps it was a little cruel, but Merlin was too wrapped up (literally) to notice Arthur's flush, or the way his hands twisted together, like they always did when he was uncomfortable or upset, "I bet you've been a lot better for him than the other way round. Am I right?"

"I-" they had separated now, and Morgana was giving Merlin an expectant look, "I think we've both helped each other." He finished, a little lamely. Morgana opened her mouth, looking like she wanted to say some more, when someone else joined them.

"Arthur!" a pretty blonde woman, eyes wide with delight as she beheld her son.

"Mother," Arthur forgot himself for a moment, as he gathered his mother in his arms, and held her close. He wasn't sure why, but whenever he saw her, he felt he should never let her go. Felt that he was beyond lucky she was _here_.

He pulled away quickly, however, feeling a little embarrassed, with Gwen and Merlin there watching. Merlin just smiled, and shuffled a little closer, holding out his hand,

"I'm Merlin," he said. Igraine took his hand, a glint of amusement in her kind eyes, and pressed on his fingers, "thank you so much for letting me stay here."

"It's really a pleasure, Merlin," Igraine assured him, "ah, Guinevere! It's been so long..."

And so, the introductions and stories continued, as Igraine ushered them all into the house, reprimanding Morgana for not inviting them in sooner. Merlin's awe only increased once they were inside the solid walls, covered with ornate paintings in gilded frames.

* * *

><p>Arthur glanced nervously at Merlin from time to time, only just beginning to realise how awkward this would be. He and Merlin weren't <em>really <em>friends, were they? And yet Merlin was _here_, in Arthur's own home, and what if Merlin didn't like it? He could have sworn Merlin said it wasn't to his taste. But then, Merlin had probably never been anywhere before quite like the Pendragon Mansion. It was a monster of a building, Arthur knew, tall and fat and just completely mindboggling in its immensity. But Arthur liked it. This was home, where his mother was, and where she always would be, waiting for him.

Igraine fussed and beamed, and Merlin found himself smiling uncontrollably. She really was quite lovely, he thought, but every time she smiled at him, or kindly squeezed his fingers, he found himself yearning for his own mother's presence, to replace hers. He sighed, sadly, wondering when exactly it would be safe for him to see her again.

Morgana and Gwen separated from the three of them, disappearing up the stairs, Morgana complaining that she hadn't been able to curl her hair properly in _months_ without Gwen there to help. Merlin smiled at their retreating backs. He wasn't quite sure whether he and Morgana would ever become close friends, but she seemed nice enough. Or perhaps 'nice' wasn't the right word. 'Strong' was more the word that came to mind. Strong and beautiful.

Another sigh.

Arthur, however, was gazing a little more intently at Gwen as she vanished. Merlin didn't notice the expression there, something like confusion, before Arthur gave a little shake of the head, and turned back to Merlin and his mother.

They stayed there a while, and it was maybe a little uncomfortable, Merlin feeling like a third wheel as Arthur and his mother talked animatedly about anything and everything, Igraine seemingly being interested in all that had happened to her eldest child over the last term. It was nice to watch, though, Arthur opening up to someone apart from Merlin, looking perfectly at ease. Although, Merlin noticed that Arthur's difficulties at Camelot's were not mentioned. Merlin wondered whether this was simply because Igraine already knew exactly what her son was not telling her.

After about half an hour, Igraine instructed her son to show Merlin to his room.

"It gets terribly cold in this house," Igraine told him, "so I thought it would be best if the two of you shared Arthur's room; it's one of the warmest, and it'll be easier not to fuss around with more than one fireplace." Merlin nodded in fervent agreement, remembering how hard it had been to start a fire back home, without waiting for everyone to leave the room so he could cast a quick spell.

* * *

><p>"I'll race you," Arthur said, at the bottom of the first staircase and, before Merlin could shout about how unfair that would be, seeing as he didn't know his way around at all, Arthur began to mount the stairs three at a time. Merlin gaped for a second, and then started after him.<p>

Merlin overtook Arthur pretty easily, with longer legs and an easier stride, but he really had no clue where he was going, and there were just so many different staircases and corridors, and doors... plus, Merlin was unbelievably clumsy, and managed to trip over no less than five time, the fifth of which he crashed against a locked door.

"Ouch!" he gasped, even while he laughed and panted, clutching at his hip where he had hit it, and also where a stitch was residing. Arthur caught up with him a few second later, also grinning.

"Christ, Merlin," he snorted, resting his hands on his knees and gasping.

"Oh, shut up," Merlin said, pulling on the door handle as he got to his feet, "are we finished yet? I won, right?" he tugged again at the door handle, thinking that this might lead to another corridor, or maybe they had finally reached their destination. He didn't see the smile sliding off Arthur's face.

"You can't go in there," he said, suddenly seizing Merlin's wrist and dragging his hand away.

"Why not?" Merlin asked, instantly curious. Arthur shrugged, and Merlin was surprised to see how utterly miserable Arthur now looked. He shrugged,

"It's always locked... and father says I'm never to go in."

"So, wait..." Merlin stared at him, "there's a room in your house you've never been in?" Merlin couldn't imagine it; he would have died from curiosity by now. But then, if he had a house this big, maybe there would be a room or two that he had never ventured into.

Merlin almost laughed then: it was ridiculous to think that there would ever be somewhere he hadn't been in his own house. His mother had always told him how nosy he was, constantly looking for things until he was certain there was nothing left to find.

"Of course I've been in," Arthur rolled his eyes, "but only once. Years ago. Father left it unlocked, and I just wanted to have a quick look around, you know? But then he caught me and... and I never went in again." He finished, quietly. Merlin's eyes widened and he tried to imagine what Uther had done to a young Arthur, to make sure he never tried to look inside the locked room again.

"But... at least you got a look. What was in there?"

Arthur shrugged, "nothing that interesting. Just boxes and stuff. Anyway, c'mon, stop stalling, we're not at my room yet!" and he took off in another direction, leaving Merlin to shout curses after him,

"How bloody big is this bloody house?"

In the back of his mind, Merlin made note of exactly where the door was. There was no way he was leaving this house without exploring every inch.

* * *

><p><em>It feels so nice to have written another chapter at last :D I hope you liked it, and hopefully that locked door will keep you coming back for the next chapter...<em>

_OH YEAH! I forgot, someone recently asked whether this fic was Merthur or not, and I have to say no, it's not. I'm focus__sing mainly on Merlin/Arthur friendship though, rather than Arwen or any other ships, so if you read it as Merthur, well that's all cool, just not how I've written it :) I just can't promise other ships won't be popping up._


	14. AN

Hey everyone *waves nervously*

Okay, I know I'm not supposed to do this, so I'll delete this in a few days but jfgdg this is an author's note from your apologetic author :s

Uhhhhm. I've been severely neglecting this fic, I know... in fact, I've been neglecting this whole account horribly. It's just that real life got in the way, and then I found myself falling in love with slash and *shrugs* I'm not entirely sure what happened, to be honest.

If you go on my profile, I've jumbled together a kind-of-explanation, and what you can expect from this account/my writing from now on.

I do plan on returning to this story, but I've got other longer fics plus school and nonsense like that underway, and I really don't have time at the moment.

Also, glancing back over what I've written so far, I'm not entirely happy with it... so you can probably expect a repost, so I can fix things up and stuff, before the next chapter.

Seriously though, I have no idea when that will be. Only that it will be as soon as possible. Which might still not be for quite a while *head-desk* I honestly feel really bad about leaving you hanging like this, especially as I'm still getting reviews and things, which is lovely... Thank you everyone who's left me messages, encouraging me to update. Sorry I've been so useless.

ANYWAY, yes, if you're still interested in this fic, have a quick look at my profile.

In the mean time... I mean, I'd be up for writing some ficlets in the same verse? Like, maybe a couple of one shots of Merlin and Arthur at Camelot boarding school, if that interests anyone. They will be Merlin/Arthur though... probably pre-slash, because I know a lot of people reading this don't ship them, and I don't want to turn you off the story. I don't know...

God, I ramble way way way too much. I'm just going to leave now :')


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